


Something Stupid

by ThirdGenerationRockette



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: 1.07, AU, Angst, Awkwardness, F/M, Smut, Will and Mac aim for casual...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 11:15:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13657875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirdGenerationRockette/pseuds/ThirdGenerationRockette
Summary: He laughs and she watches him, trying to remember the last time they did this, got completely wasted together. She recalls a night in Mexico, she remembers it was hot, but not which of them decided it would be a good idea to skinny dip. Probably her, if she's honest, she's never handled a high as well as he does.





	1. Chapter 1

"I have no idea how you pulled that off." Mackenzie walks into his office, shaking her head as she sees him standing in front of his desk, a sweet grin on his face.

"Hmm?" He turns to her, his grin growing wider. "I told you I wouldn't let you down."

"I know," she says, moving towards the clothes hanging in the corner of the office. "Get changed, I'm taking you home."

"What?" He frowns and she rolls her eyes. "Get _changed_ , Will, I'm going to take you back to your place, to make sure you don't get yourself into any more trouble on the way."

"Ok," he says, but he doesn't move, just grins again.

"Oh God." She sighs, stepping closer and smiling somewhat indulgently at him. "Fine, stay in those clothes, just sneak them back in tomorrow before wardrobe figures it out."

"Yeah." He smiles at her, leaning forward and lowering his voice. "That is a _great_ plan. You're good."

"Thank you," she says, biting back a giggle at just how ridiculous this situation is. He's just broken the biggest news of the decade and twenty minutes after the end of broadcast he seems incapable of getting himself changed. "Come on, Will, it's really fucking late and we all have to show up for work at some point tomorrow so I want to make sure you get home."

When he fails on the third attempt to open the door to his apartment, she takes the keys out of his hand and pushes him aside, throwing the bunch onto the side table as she leads the way in. He follows her to the kitchen and watches as she reaches for two glasses and the bottle of scotch she sees sitting on the counter.

"I need a drink," she says, in answer to his raised eyebrows.

"You know what would go great with a drink?" Stepping around her he takes the lid off the plastic container still on his counter top, grinning as her eyes go wide when she spots the contents.

"I don't know..." She bites her lip, glancing between his face and the cookies. "I mean, it's late and..."

"They're pretty good, Mac," he says, taking one out and breaking it in half, holding her share out on front of her.

"Yeah, I noticed they had quite the effect." She takes it from him and takes a bite, chewing slowly as he grins at her before doing the same. "You know, I haven't done this in...quite a while."

She feels like the first half of the cookie washed down with the first glass of scotch wasn't an entirely terrible idea. After that, she's not sure. About anything. At some point, they move to the couch, she tells him off for still wearing his broadcast clothes and between them they manage to remove his tie, sitting back and giggling at how fucking accomplished they both are.

"You know," she turns to him and grins. "If we can remove a tie, we're not so high."

"That was poetry," he says, his eyes soft as he slugs back the rest of his drink and smiles at her.

"Tie, high, cry, spy." She stops, a light giggle floating from her lips. "I could have been an excellent spy, you know."

"I don't doubt it," he says, reaching for her and resting his hands on her shoulders, confusion on his face as he slides his fingers under the cut out sections of her top. "Mackenzie, you have...holes in your shoulders."

"Oh." She hears her own voice sounding surprised, the feel of his fingers on her skin. "I have holes in lots of places."

She covers her mouth but totally fails to stop a snorting laugh from escaping as she realises what she just said.

"Holes." He draws the word out slowly, grinning at her as her giggles subside. "Oh my God, I'm so fucking high," she says, biting her lip.

"You were spectacular tonight," he says, looking at her, his eyes dark, his tone suddenly intense.

"Spec _tac_ ular." She emphasises the middle syllable and meets his eyes. "It's a funny word, isn't it?"

"I guess," he says, a grin reappearing on his face. "It's true though, Mac, you really were spectacular."

"You did the show completely wasted, and nobody even knows." Her grin is almost as wide as his as she prods him in the chest. "You were pretty spectacular too, Mr McAvoy."

"I need to say something." He shifts closer and her gaze drifts to his lips and back to his eyes as he continues. "I think it's pretty important."

"I already know," she says, pleased with herself for guessing where he's going with this. "I'm spectacular, I know. And you're spectacular. We're both really fucking spectacular."

"I don't think that was it," he says with a frown. "But I don't know...yeah, we _are_ spectacular."

He laughs and she watches him, trying to remember the last time they did this, got completely wasted together. She recalls a night in Mexico, she remembers it was hot, but not which of them decided it would be a good idea to skinny dip. Probably her, if she's honest, she's never handled a high as well as he does.

"Oh, Will!" The memory slides away and she's too fuzzy to chase it so she brings her mind back to now. "You know what I'd really love right now?"

"A...white kitten with blue eyes?" He looks unsure, rightly so.

"Nope," she says, a grin spreading across her face. "Toast with Nutella, that's what. Or some really, really good sex. That too."

"Well," his fingers move from inside her top and come to rest on her neck, one hand sliding up to pull the band from her hair, the loose curls she had worn for the party hours earlier falling into her face. "I don't have any bread."

"No toast then." She pouts and he pushes her hair out of her face. "And I definitely don't have Nutella," he murmurs.

"Oh." She leans closer and he grins at her.

She doesn't know if he pulls her into his lap or if she climbs into it. When his tongue slides against hers, she doesn't recall who started the kiss but she's totally committed to finishing it. Somehow she stands without falling and lets his fingers fumble with her buttons until eventually she's kicking her pants across his living room and reaching for his belt.

"I think." She smiles against his lips as his hand runs up under her top, tickling her ribs before she raises her arms so he can pull the top over her head. "I think this might be a bad idea."

"I think it's the opposite of a bad idea," he says, pausing to catch his breath when she slips her hand into his shorts and strokes him, giggling again. "God, I'd forgotten how fucking sexy your laugh is."

She raises no more protest, moaning as he runs his tongue down her neck and his fingers thread through her hair, wondering briefly if she should have just fed him a plate of cookies months ago but she stops thinking when he lifts her enough to slide her panties down her legs until she feels them hooked around one ankle but doesn't care. This feels so wonderfully familiar, and she's hot and wet, he's hard and nudging against her, and they're both so, so fucking _wasted_...she leans closer and her lips find his neck, tasting him again after so long.

"Inside me, Will, please," she whispers, feeling his sharp intake of breath, his fingers gripping her hips.

Raising herself up slightly, her hands on his shoulders, she positions herself so he can push slowly inside her, groaning as she lowers herself to take all of him deep into her. She moans and starts to move, grinding against him, feeling everything like she never has before, all of her senses heightened, her heart thundering against her chest. She remembers Mexico so clearly now, how they got into the water, how he traced the droplets running down her chest with his tongue and how she came so hard under his fingers she had to bite down on his shoulder to avoid alerting everyone to their presence in the pool at two in the morning.

"Yeah." He feels so good inside her, so _right_ , she can barely speak. "This is definitely the opposite...of a bad idea."

He laughs and leans forward, pushing one cup of her bra down so his lips can get to her nipple, and she snorts as his hair tickles the skin of her breast. It feels like they're in slow motion, and everything feels so intense, his teeth scraping across her nipple as she rides him harder, feeling every single inch of him filling her. She moans, loud and clear, the sound ricocheting off the walls of his quiet apartment, and his hands move to her face, pulling her towards him to kiss her so deeply and so slowly that she feels like she could come from his kiss alone. Taking one of his hands, she pushes it down between them as she meets his tongue with hers. His fingers start to make small, gentle circles and she moans into his mouth as she feels the pressure building, feels him getting impossibly harder inside her. He pulls out of the kiss just far enough to look into her eyes, and she wonders if she has the same dazed look in her own.

"Make me come, Billy," she says, feeling another stupid grin trickle across her lips.

He smiles back at her, his pupils big and dark, his fingers falling still as his thumb gives a final stroke that's enough to send her over the edge, coming hard again his hand, her breathing heavy as he watches her. When he comes, he wraps himself around her and pulls her to him, running his hands up and down her back as he empties himself into her, moving his hand into her hair as he stays inside her, still hard as she breathes against him.

"We should send Neal's girlfriend a fucking bouquet for these cookies." He grins as she moves slightly and he slips slowly out of her.

"It would be the polite thing to do, right?" She moves back onto his lap, conscious even when she's this high of not wanting to make a mess on Will's couch, another thought that makes her laugh out loud at its complete irrelevance.

"Totally." He leans in and kisses her quickly, his hand on her shoulder blade.

"Bathroom, I really need the bathroom," she says, giggling again and realising as she does how completely baked she still is. "Two sizeable glasses of scotch and an even more sizeable load of...well, you. I really do need the bathroom."

"You're dirty when you're high, Mackenzie." He grins as she stands up. "I approve."

When she comes out of the bathroom, he's in bed, the sheet next to him pulled back in what she assumes is an invitation although her brain feels even more fogged now than earlier so she isn't entirely sure. Fuck it, she thinks, it's too late now to worry about dignity. She slides into bed next to him, lying on her back and pulling the sheet up.

"God, I don't even want to think about how little sleep we're about to get," she says, glancing at her watch but giving up, unable to figure out if it's four in the morning or five, six even? Neither is a great option.

She doesn't remember falling asleep but when she wakes up the light is streaming in and she guesses neither of them considered pulling the blinds when they eventually made it into the bedroom. Will's arm is draped across her, and his face is pressed against her upper arm. Her head feels fuzzy, her eyes heavy and she wonders briefly how the fuck they're going to get through the day, before the next thought hits her harder. How the fuck are they going to deal with _this_? She knows she wants Will, of course she does, she wants him completely, she wants this with him every night. She also knows this wouldn't have happened without the combination of the broadcast and the damn cookies, and she's fairly certain he hasn't forgiven her, although he's quite obviously still attracted to her. She has to accept that it's probably nothing more than that. She wishes she could roll over, snuggle against him and hold him forever, but what she really needs to do is get out of here before he wakes up and awkwardness rolls in like thunder.

Extricating herself from under his arm, she sits up and pushes herself towards the end of the bed, looking at him to confirm he's still sleeping before she climbs out and creeps silently from the room, taking one more glance in his direction as she reaches the door. She locates her clothes from where they are strewn across the living room floor, realising as she bends down that she smells like him, like he's inside her pores, trying to climb out. Shaking herself, she dresses quickly and catches sight of her reflection in the mirror beside the front door. Smoothing down her hair (God only knows where her hair tie ended up), she peers at her slightly red eyes, frowns at the dark circles under them and quietly lets herself out.

Ninety minutes later she's in her office with a stack of newspapers in front of her, struggling to focus even with her glasses on, when a cup appears on the desk in front of her. Biting her lip, she looks up, knowing exactly who she's going to find on the end of it.

"I genuinely think that might be the biggest cup of coffee I've ever seen," she says, meeting his eyes and offering a smile she hopes doesn't look as shaky as it feels.

"Yeah, well." He smiles back, shrugging slightly. "If you're feeling even half as bad as I am right now, you're going to need it."

"It's taken me half an hour to read the front page of this newspaper," she says. "So yeah, I've felt better...thank you."

"No problem." He nods. "You know, you didn't have to-" "Look, I'm sorry," she says. I-"

They both start to speak at the same time, stopping simultaneously too. He smiles slightly and she shakes her head as they stay silent, her gaze eventually dropping from his because her head hurts suddenly and snippets of last night start to run through it as his eyes remind her of what the two of them were doing just a few hours earlier.

"Right, so, I should..." Gesturing to the door, he steps back from the desk.

"Yeah, of course, yeah." She nods and reaches for her highlighter. "Thanks for the coffee."

Smiling awkwardly at her, he turns and heads for the door. Groaning slightly as he walks out, she rests her head in her hands and thinks about what a long week this is going to be.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It’s Friday at least, he can go home tonight and hole up in his apartment until Monday, maybe a weekend without her big, enquiring eyes haunting him will be enough to shake himself out of this. It’s too late now to try and talk about what happened, the moment, if there was one, having passed them by._

Arriving at work on Monday with a coffee for Mackenzie but no real idea how to bring up the previous night, he had suspected it was going to feel like a long week and it had proved to be an accurate suspicion. It’s been an odd week too, with moments that have felt completely normal, when their banter was just as it always is, other moments where the awkwardness was so potent that he found himself certain that other people must have noticed the strange shift between them.

He knows he isn’t helping himself by the way he can’t seem to stop looking at her, somewhat less than surreptitiously at times, he’s well aware of that. They were wasted on Sunday night, both of them, completely and totally, and the heavy-headed feeling that lasted right through Monday was proof of just what a seriously heavy batch of cookies they were. Figuring that if he was higher than he can remember being in a while, he knows Mackenzie must have been even more so since she doesn't indulge often and there's a lot less of her than of him. He marvels at how he got through a broadcast as big as Sunday night’s, yet couldn’t think clearly enough to wonder if Mackenzie in his lap with her hand down his pants was such a good idea. God though, it felt like a great idea at the time, when her eyes were wide and his hands were roaming all over her. He loves her, of course he does, he always has, he knows of no place he would rather be than with her, touching her, curled up around her, kissing her. Sunday night reminded him of what he already knew, Monday morning reminded him of the courage he lacks to tell her any of this.

Huge chunks of the week have been spent trying not to stare at her, or certainly to not allow her to catch him as he does. It’s not easy though, now that his switch has been flipped once again and he has gone from valiantly ignoring how damn sexy he finds her, to being unable to think of anything else when she walks past him. The sway of her hips, the curve of her neck, her voice in his ear, the way she bites her lip…this is his own damn fault, and he wonders what the hell he expected when he handed her the cookie.

It’s Friday at least, he can go home tonight and hole up in his apartment until Monday, maybe a weekend without her big, enquiring eyes haunting him will be enough to shake himself out of this. It’s too late now to try and talk about what happened, the moment, if there was one, having passed them by. He knows he’s been a real ass today though, snapping at everyone for no reason, with Mackenzie taking the worst of it, gamely saying nothing until she finally snapped twenty minutes ago telling him she was done with his shit for today. She had walked out of his office, and he hasn’t seen her since. They have a guest on tonight talking about the latest report on global mercury emissions, a scientist; tall, with dark hair and a friendly smile that he seems to have spent most of his interview prep directing at Mackenzie.

“You’re great at this,” Will had heard him say to her, smiling as she went over the questions they were going to be asking him. “Putting people at ease, I mean.”

“It’s my job, it’s no problem." She had replied sweetly, seemingly completely oblivious to any flirting he may have been attempting.

So it makes no sense for him to be so annoyed, it’s irrational and completely inappropriate, especially given that even if she’d thrown the guy across the desk and ravished him right there, Will would have no right to object. He has just spent five days giving her no indication that Sunday meant anything more to him than just drunken, high sex, and she hasn’t said anything either. He sits down at the desk and sighs heavily as he puts his earpiece in, and it takes only a second for her voice to break into his thoughts.

“Get that out of your system,” she says. “Sixty seconds, and nobody wants to watch you sighing for an hour.”

“Copy that,” he says abruptly, sighing once more before speaking again, softening his tone. “Mac, am I going into the whole room there?”

“Nope,” she replies. “Just you and me.”

“Ok, well." He pauses. “Listen, I’m sorry…about today. I know I’ve been an ass, and-“

“Yes, you have,” she says, not giving him chance to finish. “It’s Friday, and you should be glad of that, this week of all weeks.”

“I know,” he says. “Are we, you and me…are we okay?”

“We’re fine, Billy,” she answers, after a beat. “Ten seconds. Good show.” “You too,” he says.

As it turns out, good show is almost the last thing it could be described as and he knows he’s to blame. All is going well until the damn scientist sits down and he doesn’t know what comes over him, but the sudden need to try and pick holes in all the facts the man gives him is completely irresistible. He knows he’s pushing him harder than he should be, that the report stands up pretty well and that the poor guy is here just to impart basic information to the layman. Twice Mackenzie tells him to ease up, and twice he ignores her, pushing on until there are small beads of sweat breaking out across the forehead of the bewildered scientist. Eventually, he backs off and they cut to commercials but it’s too late. He has made himself look like an idiot, made the expert a whipping boy and he can feel Mackenzie’s anger in the clipped tones of her words in his ear for the rest of the show.

Once he’s off the air, he wastes no time and is back in his office, throwing off his jacket and kicking his shoes in the rough direction of his desk barely two minutes after nine. He is in the bathroom, loosening his tie when he hears her calling his name, and she’s furious, he can hear it in her voice.

“Will!” She storms into the bathroom, yelling his name and slamming the door behind her, pushing him back against the wall. “What the hell did that poor guy do to you? Jesus, you made him look like a flustered idiot, you made yourself look like an arrogant fucking arse, and you made us all look like we don’t give a shit about the environment, other than to drag someone in and try and pick holes in a perfectly valid report. I mean, what were you thinking, what were you- “

“I don’t know!” He yells at her and eyes widen as he carries on. “I’m sorry, alright? I’m sorry! I was in a shitty mood and I took it out on the wrong person, I should have-“

“You should have what?” She yells back again, her hand on his chest, pushing him even though his back is already flat to the wall. “Yelled at _me_? It’s me you’re mad at, isn’t it? I feel like it’s always me you’re mad at even when I don’t know what I’ve done. I-“

“I’m not mad at you, Mac." He cuts her off, throwing his hands up in frustration before landing them on her shoulders, pulling her towards him. “I’m _not_ , I’m just-“

“You can’t just get yourself into a funk and take it out on some poor, unsuspecting guest, Will." She pauses, sighing loudly. “He started giving people facts and statistics from a reputable report and you started haranguing him like he was reading from the National Enquirer, for fuck’s sake! What's _wrong_ with you? He was just doing his job, he seemed like a decent guy-“

“Well, he was impressed by _you_ , that’s for sure!” He realises as the words fall from his mouth what he’s just said, and her open-mouthed silence confirms it.

“You know what? Fuck this,“ she says, breaking her silence. She tries to move but his grasp on her shoulders is solid and she sighs again, her next sentence falling mostly under her breath. “I just don’t know what you want from me, I don’t know what you’re angry about, or what I've done this time, and I'm tired of being yelled at, I-“

He moves his hands from her shoulders, sliding them into her hair and covering her lips with his, cutting off whatever the rest of her sentence was about to be. It takes a few long seconds but when she starts to respond, the kiss is hot, wet, and hungry, and he feels himself already starting to get hard as she scratches her nails down the back of his shirt and moans into his mouth. It’s a different kiss from the kisses of last weekend, more urgent but with no less passion even though both of their heads are clear this time. Her hand moves lower down his back and she pushes herself closer, grinding her hips into his and smiling against his mouth before pulling abruptly away, causing an involuntary groan to escape from him that she laughs softly at. Grabbing the tie still hanging loosely around his neck, she pulls him with her as she moves to the door and reaches for the lock, sliding it into place and spinning back to face him.

Taking her face in his hands again, he kisses her hard, his tongue slipping into her mouth as he pushes back her against the counter and moves his hips against hers, feeling himself harden further as she runs her fingers through his hair. Pulling his mouth from hers, he slides his hands down to her waist and lifts her up onto the counter, pushing her skirt up and raising his eyebrows when his hands meet her bare thighs.

“It’s May, Will,” she says, a smile dancing across her lips as she shrugs. “You know I like bare legs in the spring.”

“And you know _I_ do." He runs his fingers slowly up her thighs, pausing as she wriggles a little, nodding at him to push her skirt higher, which he does without a word.

Pulling him to her, she kisses him again, gasping against his lips when his fingers find her panties and push them aside, tickling lightly, his middle finger pushing just slightly inside her when he feels how wet she is. He can't help thinking they have no excuse this time, no hazy high to blame this on in the morning. She's wet because she wants him, he's hard because he wants to be inside her again, it's that simple. Feeling her shift slightly, he breaks out of the kiss and looks up at her, one hand cupping her face as his eyes lock firmly onto hers and his finger slides inside her.

She moans loudly and it echoes off the cold tiles of the bathroom, making him wonder briefly just how far the sound might carry from here. Moving his finger deeper into her, he doesn't take his eyes from her face and as she opens her mouth and moans again he feels his erection straining against his pants...fuck, he needs to be inside her.

He takes his hand from her face and reaches to unbutton his pants, pushing them clumsily, one- handedly, down just as far as he needs to, shorts too. His other hand is still busy, his finger moving slowly in and out of her as he feels her get wetter and hears her get louder. When he slides a second finger inside her and twists just fractionally (he remembers what she likes all too well), adding his thumb into the mix, the cry she lets out is so loud that he is almost certain anyone still in the bullpen must be able to hear. Holy shit, he hopes the place has cleared out as fast as it usually does on a Friday night...

Her hand moves slowly down his chest, slipping under his shirt when her fingers reach his abdomen, her nails scraping lightly across his skin. Groaning, he pulls his fingers slowly out of her, sliding them into his mouth and sucking, his eyes never leaving hers. He pulls her towards him, closer to the edge of the counter and she braces herself with one hand on the wall, the other on his shoulder. He drags her panties roughly down her legs and pushes into her. She closes her eyes, letting out yet another moan that she tries to bite back but that escapes as a breathy whimper that almost makes him come right there. The hand she has on his shoulder slides down his back and she pulls him closer, her other hand coming off the wall until she is wrapped tightly around him, her head pressed into the side of his neck.

He feels her warm breath against his skin and hears her soft moans in his ear as he thrusts harder into her. There won't be any stamina prizes for him tonight, he's barely hanging on as it is, and it's taking all he has not to whisper that he loves her as she squeezes her muscles around him and digs her nails into his back. Instead he speeds up and pushes his hands up her back, only realising how dressed they both still are when he has to pull her shirt out of the waistband of her skirt so he can feel her skin under his fingers. When she turns her head and runs her tongue slowly up the side of his neck, he comes without warning, her name falling from his lips as he spills into her and feels her hands pressing hard against his shoulder blades. Her fingers curl and her thumbs knead the skin of his back, reminding him of how she used to sleep, of all the mornings he woke up with her hand on his shoulder or her arm slung around his middle, her fingers curling almost reflexively.

"See how much better it is when you find an outlet for your anger." Her words are muffled against his neck and he smiles at their accuracy.

Threading his fingers through her hair, her pulls her head gently from his shoulder and kisses her, softer than the urgent kisses of earlier, his tongue tracing her bottom lip slowly.

"Next time I tell you to ease up on a guest," she says, her mouth still on his, her words vibrating through him. "What's the response I want?"

"Depends on the guest," he answers, moving his fingers in her hair.

"What's the appropriate response, Will?" Her fingers dance across the back of his neck and he grins against her lips.

"Copy that?" He gives her the answer she wants but they both know it's a promise he probably won't be able to keep.

"Copy." She kisses him once more, hard and fast, before pulling back and looking into his eyes. "That."

"Mac..." He starts. "I-"

A knock on the door stops him and a voice calls out his name from the other side.

"Um, Will?" It's Maggie, who has obviously drawn the short straw and has been given the job he knows nobody wants when he's in a mood like he was tonight. "I'm sorry to bother you, but, um, they sent me to pick up your suit before I leave."

"Right." He calls back, flustered as he realises not only is he still wearing most of his suit but he's still inside Mackenzie. Mackenzie, who is barely managing to stifle a giggle as he tries to control his voice. "I'm not quite ready...um, you should go home, Maggie. If you could just tell wardrobe I'll drop it off with them when I'm done, that'd be great."

"Sure." She calls back, pausing briefly. "Ok then, have a good night."

"Yeah," he answers, holding back a groan as Mackenzie pushes on his shoulders and he pulls out of her. "You too."

"Oops," she says, sliding down from the counter and biting her lip as she looks up at him. 

"Jesus, Mac, we may as well have hung a Do Not Disturb sign on the damn door!" He slides his pants down and reaches for his jeans. "You and your damn giggle. Do you want the staff to know what we were just doing in here?"

"No, I..." she says, biting down harder on her lip. "I guess we don't want that, do we."

He pulls a sweater over his head and she turns away, pulling her skirt up slightly and sitting down on the toilet, something that strikes him as oddly intimate, ludicrous considering he came inside her mere minutes ago. Seeing her there makes him think again of how they used to be when they would get ready for work together every morning, and how much he misses that. She won't look at him and he kicks himself for what he just said, for making her think he's ashamed of what they're doing when the only thing he's ashamed of is himself for not having the balls to say what he was about to before Maggie knocked on the door. Spotting her panties beside the sink, he picks them up and hands them to her, smiling as she looks up and takes them from him, noticing the smile she gives him in return comes nowhere close to reaching her eyes.

"Mac." He starts to speak but again seems unable to get the words out that he wants to.

"You should probably get that suit back to wardrobe," she says with a sigh. "You don't want them yelling at Maggie."

"Right, yeah." He nods, running a hand through his hair. "Are you...I-"

"I'm just going to finish getting cleaned up here and then..." she says, looking away again and reaching for the toilet paper. "Yeah."

"I'll go drop this off then," he says, folding the pants and grabbing the shirt from the counter, scooping the tie up from the floor. "I won't be long, I-"

"I'll see you on Monday, Will," she says, firmly, still not looking at him.

As he heads for wardrobe, he replays the last few minutes in his brain, over and over. He was so close, right on the cusp of telling her he wants more than this, he doesn't want her to think it's just sex, that it could never be just that, not with _her_ , and then the courage slipped away. The knock on the door was like someone clamping a hand over his mouth, pushing his words back down, and the moment was gone. To make it worse, he somehow made it sound like not only is sex the only thing he wants from her but that he wants her to keep it a secret. God, he's an idiot. A great big, fucking idiot.

Dumping the suit with wardrobe as quickly as possible and hoping they don't notice the state it's in, he heads back to his office, thinking that if he can just start by apologising for what he said then maybe the rest will follow. He realises that he has no idea what she wants, that there's always a chance she could tell him that actually, she doesn't want anything more from him than occasional sex (not that twice in less than week could really be called occasional...), but at least then he'll know.

The bullpen is mostly empty as he heads back into his office and when he opens the bathroom door, the light is off and he's too late, she's already gone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Does she let it happen again if the opportunity arises, or does she tell him it needs to end? She can't lie to herself, she's never slept with anyone who makes her feel like Will does, who looks at her like Will does, but if she keeps doing this with him, is she merely setting herself up for the inevitable hurt when he eventually walks away?_

It's been thirteen days. The last time it happened was a Friday night, in his bathroom after the show and today is Thursday, so yeah...thirteen days. She feels almost certain now that it was just sex for him, he essentially said so when he made it clear he didn't want anyone else to find out, and she was furious with herself for feeling so disappointed. Just because she still loves him doesn't mean he has suddenly, miraculously, forgiven her, or that he ever will, and all the sex proves is that he still finds her attractive physically, which has been clear since the day she arrived and his eyes drifted absently to her legs. These are things she knows, but what she doesn't know is what to do about any of them. Does she let it happen again if the opportunity arises, or does she tell him it needs to end? She can't lie to herself, she's never slept with anyone who makes her feel like Will does, who looks at her like Will does, but if she keeps doing this with him, is she merely setting herself up for the inevitable hurt when he eventually walks away?

Snapping herself out of it, she puts on a fresh coat of lipstick and tidies her hair before changing her shoes for a slightly higher pair with straps. She doesn't know why it should matter really, but she likes the way her legs look in these shoes and they work with the dress she's wearing, so she sticks with them for the evening. She briefly considers how they might look wrapped around Will's waist but forces herself to shut down that line of thinking and heads for the door.

"Damn, you look _hot_ , Kenzie!" Sloan's voice calls to her across the bullpen and she smiles, shaking her head.

"Thanks," she says, walking over to her. "You're heading over after the show, right?"

"Cake, alcohol and the chance to embarrass Jim by singing Happy Birthday to him?" Sloan grins. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Hey." Will's voice startles her and she turns to see him coming out of his office, his eyes predictably moving to her legs before he glances back up at her. "You look...great, Mac."

"Oh, this?" She shrugs, looking down at her dress. "Thanks."

"If you give me two minutes, I'll head down there with you," he says, the look in his eyes so intense she feels hot under it.

"Of course," she answers quickly. "Yeah, fine, I'll just...sure, I'll wait here." "Kenzie..." Sloan looks at her with narrowed eyes, full of suspicion. "What?" she asks, recovering herself and smiling brightly.

"Since I have a show to get ready for, I guess I'll talk to you later." Sloan smirks at her. "When you've got a few drinks under your belt."

She walks away as Will reappears and heads over to where Mackenzie is standing, asking if she's ready and smiling when she nods.

She isn't sure how long they've been at the bar when she starts to wonder if she perhaps should have suggested dinner rather than just drinks, and realising that the salad she ate hours ago is no weapon against this amount of champagne. They're in a huge booth at the back of the bar, she's pressed against Will and already she feels a little giddy as she smiles across the table at Jim.

"Happy Birthday, Jim," she says, reaching across the table and squeezing his hand as she smiles at him.

"Thanks," he says, his lop-sided grin making it clear he's feeling the effects of the champagne too. "Actually, I think you already wished me Happy Birthday."

"Yeah, maybe." She thinks he may be right. She has a vague recollection of hugging him when she walked in and wishing him a happy birthday, but still, it's Jim, he deserves as many birthday wishes as she can remember to give him. "Ooh, I think there should be cake too!"

"There is." Will speaks up and she smiles at him. "Neal's over at the bar now picking it up."

"Excellent!" She takes another drink from the champagne glass in front of her that she thinks is hers.

"Hungry, Mac?" Will nudges her thigh with his and she giggles slightly. "I had a salad at, like, one this afternoon," she says, shrugging. "Yeah."

"Did you want to order some actual food?" he asks, leaning closer even though the music in the bar isn't particularly loud.

"Nope." She smiles at him, watching as his eyes flick briefly down to her lips and back again. "I want cake and champagne."

"Well, we're halfway there." He clinks his glass with hers and spots Neal approaching with a huge cake which he sets down on the table in front of the group.

As various hands reach in and start to take slices of the cake, Mackenzie realises she probably isn't the only one who hasn't eaten and that the staff around the table are looking as drunk as she feels. A plate holding a giant slab of cake slides in front of her but before she can start on it, Will puts his hand on her arm to catch her attention and she turns to him.

"God, Mac, this is some fucking good cake." He grins and she giggles again, amused by his enthusiasm. "Try it!"

"I'm going to." She reaches for the plate and looks around for the forks, stopped again by Will's hand. "Do you want me to try this cake, or not?"

"I do," he says. "Here."

She turns to him and sees he has a piece in between his thumb and finger, holding it out to her, grinning as he waits for her to taste it. Opening her mouth, she takes it from his hand, and he's right, it's really good cake, sweet and light with a vanilla cream to die for. Chewing on the piece in her mouth, she swallows it and lets out a satisfied moan, looking at him and smirking at the expression on his face. His fingers are still in front of her and there's a dollop of frosting sitting on his thumb, too tempting to resist. Before she really thinks about what she's doing, she reaches for his hand and pulls it to her mouth, running her tongue around his thumb to suck off the sweet vanilla, mingling with the taste of Will that she's missed for the past two weeks. She flicks her gaze up to meet his and her tongue stops moving as she sees the look in his eyes, dark and hungry for more than just cake, and she thinks they could be in trouble again tonight.

At some point she notices that most of the team has disappeared and she thinks she heard some mention of karaoke but she couldn't be certain. Actually, she couldn't be certain of anything right now other than that Will is next to her and that his finger is running slowly up and down her thigh, tracing the pattern of the lace in her dress. He leans in towards her, so close that she feels his breath on her skin and she shudders slightly.

"You look so _good_ tonight," he murmurs against her ear.

"You said that earlier," she says quietly, sliding her hand under the table to cover his.

"I meant it," he says, his fingers moving down to stroke the inside of her knee. "This dress, those fucking shoes...God, Mackenzie."

"What are you going to do about it?" She lets out a long breath and his fingers grip her leg a little bit tighter.

"What do you _want_ me to do about it?" His voice is low and she bites her lip because shit, it's happening again and she wants it to, she wants _him_.

"I hope some of this cake is saved for us," Sloan's voice startles her and she glances up and across the table, noticing that Will's hand stays firmly on her leg. "So, how drunk are you two? Do I have an insane amount of catching up to do?"

"I would say no, we're hardly even a tiny bit drunk." She looks across the table at Sloan, Don sliding into the booth beside her. "But I'd be lying."

"Get out again for a second, would you," Sloan nudges Don and he stands up, frowning as she carries on. "I'm going to run to the bathroom. Kenzie, come with me."

"Oh no," she says. "I'm fine, I don't need-"

"Kenzie," Sloan repeats, more firmly this time. "Come with me."

"Okay." She nods and squeezes Will's hand as he moves it from her leg reluctantly.

They get into the bathroom and Mackenzie moves to the mirror, running her fingers through her hair, checking her eye make-up but stopping, confused when she sees Sloan standing behind her.

"Didn't you say you needed to use the bathroom?" she asks, pointing vaguely towards the cubicles behind them.

"No, I don't," Sloan says, pulling her away from the mirror and into the corner of the bathroom. "How much have you had to drink?"

"What?" She frowns, trying to figure out what's happening, but drawing a blank. "Some champagne...well, quite a lot of champagne, but...I don't understand, what's going on?"

"That was my next question." Sloan's voice drops slightly and she glances around the room to make sure they're alone.

"What?" She's so baffled now she wonders if she may be even more drunk than she thought.

"What's going on with you and Will?" Sloan asks, looking directly at her and saying nothing more.

"I don't know what you mean." Going into instant denial, she wonders what the hell they were doing when Sloan arrived to make her ask the question, and if that means the others have noticed too. "Nothing's going on, we're just-"

"Kenzie, when I walked in, you had his finger in your mouth," Sloan says, not stopping for breath before she continues. "And do not even give me the 'I was just tasting the cake' shit. And then you didn't even notice Don and me sitting down right opposite you because you were too busy whispering sweet nothings to each other. Something's going on, and-"

"Nothing is going on, Sloan," she says quickly. "I don't know what-"

"Something is going on," Sloan repeats, a worried look on her face. "The two of you are back together or-"

"We're not." She shakes her head firmly, a bad idea because the room starts to spin slightly. "We're not back together, but we've been...I mean, it's happened a couple of times and I'm not sure how, really, but it's been-"

"Wait." Sloan cuts her off, her eyes wide. "It? _It_?"

"Yes, Sloan," she says, impatiently. "Me and Will, we've been, you know..." 

"You're sleeping together?" Sloan asks. "You're sleeping with Will?"

"Yes," she says again. "Sort of. It's just been kind of...it's happened a time or two, yeah." "Oh, Kenzie." Sloan sighs, her eyes clouded with concern.

"Oh no, don't look at me like that, like it's a terrible idea," she says, determined that Sloan doesn't make this a bigger thing than it already feels like. "It's fine, really. Look, it's Jim's birthday, we should get out there and drink."

"And we will," Sloan says. "But he won't miss us if we're in the bathroom for two more minutes."

"I love Jim," she says, a proud smile on her lips. "I really do. He saved my life. Did you know that?"

"I did," Sloan says, smiling back. "He's a good one."

"He really is." She turns back to the mirror and once again takes a long hard look at herself, sighing before she turns back to Sloan. "Oh God, I'm really much more drunk than I thought. Do I look awful?"

"No, you look fine, and don't try to change the subject. So, is it just sex?" Sloan continues, undeterred. "Is that what you're saying? That it's just sex?"

"Yeah," she says. "I suppose so."

"And you're okay with that?" Sloan still looks worried.

"It's really, really _good_ sex, Sloan. I mean, it's..." Suddenly aware of how drunk she is, she stops, torn between not wanting to say too much and wanting someone to know just how good it is.

"Seriously, I'm so okay with how great the sex is."

"Oh, I'm sure it's great. I really wasn't questioning that." Amusement crosses Sloan's face briefly. "What I meant was, are you okay with it being nothing more than just sex? You know..."

"Because I love him, you mean?" She smiles. "I do, but I get that he can't forgive me, not yet anyway, so I think this is just how it has to be for now."

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Sloan asks. "I just don't want to see this go to hell and you ending up getting hurt. Oh God, you're being careful, right?"

"Fuck, Sloan, I'm not a teenager, or a total idiot." She moves away from the wall towards the door. "I'm alright, I promise, it's fine."

"Okay," Sloan says, but she doesn't sound convinced. "I know I'm like the world's worst at this stuff but if everyone else on earth is unavailable to offer advice, you know you can talk to me, right?"

"I know." She smiles, again glancing in the mirror. "You're _sure_ I don't look completely awful?"

"Come here." Sloan pulls her closer and rubs a thumb softly across her cheekbone, wiping off some stray mascara, Mackenzie assumes. "You look great, that dress is totally working for you. He's going to want to fuck you tonight, if that's what you're asking."

"Not really what I was asking," she says, feeling herself grinning stupidly. "I'm fairly sure tonight is heading that way already but yeah, thanks for the confirmation."

"God." Sloan grins back. "Come on, I need a drink."

"Would you not..." She pauses. "Could you please not say anything to Will?" "Kenz..." Sloan frowns. "I-"

"Please, Sloan." She grabs her hand and Sloan eventually nods at her. "Thank you."

When they make it back to the table, Will sighs in relief as she slides back into the booth next to him.

"Thank God," he says as she takes a drink from the glass in front of her that was topped up while she was gone. "I'm being called all kinds of fucking names here for refusing to play truth or dare. I said you'd agree with me that in no way is getting drunk with your colleagues and telling them your deepest, darkest secrets ever a good idea, I said-"

"I'll play," she says quickly, grinning at Will when he raises his eyebrows at her. "Come on, Billy, it's just a bit of fun."

"Awesome!" Tess leans across the table and clinks their glasses together. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare," she says without hesitation. She knows what kind of questions choosing truth leads to and she's way too drunk to risk that one.

"Alright." Tess grins. "I dare you to...send a message to the last person you had sex with, telling them one thing that stayed in your mind."

"Wait." Neal speaks up. "There is no way of us knowing that whoever Mac sends the message to is _actually_ the last person she slept with. She could text anyone with anything. You haven't thought this through at all, Tess. I mean-"

"It's Mac," Jim says. "She's unfailingly honest. If she says that's who she's texting, then that's who she's texting."

"Thank you." She smiles at Jim and reaches for her phone. "Okay, let me think for a second."

"Pretty sure she's thinking of her message, _not_ trying to remember who she last slept with, right?" Tess asks, not as quietly as she thinks.

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm doing." She looks across the table and then back at her phone. "Okay. God, these keys are so tiny tonight, I don't know what happened to them."

Deliberately avoiding looking at either Will or Sloan, she hears someone, Neal she thinks, snort at her increasing difficulty to compose the message. She finally manages it and hits send, slamming her phone triumphantly down on the table.

"Done!" She grins at Tess. "Who's going next?" "Neal!" Tess says, taking another drink and grinning.

Mackenzie is about to say something when she feels Will's phone vibrating in his pocket, and sees him reaching for it automatically. Glancing up, she sees Sloan smirking at her across the table so she looks away quickly and grabs his hand before he can get to the phone, pushing it under the table.

"Oh!" He leans closer and grins sloppily at her. "Sorry."

Looking up at the group, she's pretty sure Sloan is the only one who noticed although there's a slightly quizzical expression on Jim's face that she opts to ignore. Sliding her hand onto Will's leg, she runs her fingers up his thigh, partly aware of the game still going on around them, and very aware of his fingers covering hers and moving her hand higher.

"I forgot to say earlier." His breath tickles her ear and she smiles. "The show was great tonight, you were fucking amazing, Mac."

"Was I?" She moves her hand a touch higher and he lets out a ragged breath. "Hang on, are you saying I'm not usually amazing?"

"That's not what I'm saying at all." His voice drops an octave and she feels the hairs on her arms stand up in response.

"I could _really_ show you amazing if we were at your place," she murmurs, peering quickly across the table where everyone is engrossed in truth or dare, with the exception of Sloan who raises a knowing eyebrow before turning back to her drink.

"Finish your drink and let's get the fuck out of here." His hand moves to her knee, slipping just under the hemline of her dress, his thumb making tiny circles on her bare thigh.

"Okay, guys." She throws back the last of her drink, feeling her head spin a little faster than it was before and grinning at the sensation. "I'm going to call it a night and head home."

There are various noises of protest that make her giggle as she slides out of the booth, and she sees Neal standing too and reaching for a bag.

"Here, take some more cake," he says, grinning. "Cake for breakfast is the _best_!"

"Alright, thanks." She takes the bag and smiles back at him before turning to Will. "You, McAvoy, are even older than me, you should be heading home too. Come with me, I'll let you find me a cab, and if you're lucky, I'll let you take some of this cake."

Avoiding Sloan's pointed stare as they head out, and amused by Will's complete belief that he is the king of discretion, Mackenzie lets out a giggle, realising when they step outside and the night air hits her just how drunk she is.

"Oh, it's raining," she says, turning to Will, who looks worried.

"And you don't have a jacket," he says, starting to remove his, no doubt to pass to her.

"It's warm rain, Billy." She beams at him, her hand on his arm letting him know she doesn't need his jacket. "You know how I love warm rain."

"I know," he says, moving closer and smiling at her. "You do know that even warm rain gets you wet, right?"

"Oh, I don't mind getting wet," she says coyly, her eyes fixed on his as his hand slides into her hair and cups the back of her head.

"Good to know..." Pulling her to him, he kisses her and she sighs as the kiss turns hungry and his lips chase hers when she pulls back. "Mackenzie..."

"We need to try and get a cab," she says, kissing him again and pulling him towards the road. "It's pouring with rain." He sighs. "It's going to take forever to get a cab."

"I think you're underestimating this dress, Billy." She hears herself almost purring and watches his breathing change as he pulls her against him again and proves his point by pushing his hips into hers.

"I'm _really_ not," he whispers, sliding his hand down her arm and squeezing her hand. "It's raining pretty fucking hard though, and you're soaked already, honey."

Trying to ignore that he just called her honey, and in the very same gentle tone he always used to use, she swallows hard and turns away, admitting to herself that he's right and they really do need to get a cab and get out of this rain. Pushing her wet hair behind her ears, she spots a cab and steps to the edge of the curb, praying for either a sympathetic driver, one who appreciates her legs or hell, one who recognises Will. At this point, she doesn't care which...and when the cab screeches to a halt in front of them, she grabs Will's hand and drags him into the backseat.

She shivers slightly as they get into the cab and he takes off his jacket, this time with no protest from her as he drapes it around her shoulders.

"The message," he says suddenly, reaching across her to grab his phone from his jacket pocket, pausing for a second when she opens her legs slightly and bites her lip. "Truth or dare."

"Ah." She watches him as he opens the message and confusion crosses his face, and even though she's fairly sure she remembers what she sent, she has a moment of panic nonetheless.

"What the hell does colo mean?" he asks, looking at her, then back at the phone. "Hmm?" She frowns and he holds up the phone to show her the message.

"Colour," she says. "It was meant to say _colour_. Those keys are so small, Will. I don't know how I ever manage to type anything."

"The colo of you yes?" He stops and hands the phone to her. "Tell me what it says, Mackenzie." 

"I don't need to read it," she says, passing the phone back to him. "I remember what it says." 

"Tell me." He turns to her and lowers his voice.

"The colour of your eyes when you're inside me." Her voice is barely a whisper and she looks up to confirm the driver has no interest in the drunken passengers in his backseat.

"They're different?" he asks, pausing. "When we're..."

"Yeah." She nods, biting her lip as she looks at him, taking in the intensity of his gaze. "It's really, _really_ sexy."

He runs a thumb across her cheekbone as he leans in to kiss her, his hand tangled in her wet hair before he pulls away and his lips move to her neck, licking the rain from her skin as she moans her encouragement and his teeth scrape down and across her collarbone.

"Will," she murmurs, thinking that they really should take things down a notch since they're in the back of a cab somewhere in midtown, but when his hand moves to her knee and pushes up her dress she forgets any idea of what might be sensible.

They make it into Will's building and she giggles as she shoves him into the corner of the elevator, sucking on his neck as his fingers stroke her thigh for the whole ride to his floor, and when the doors open, they tumble into his apartment and she drops the cake on the table in the hallway. He steers her against the wall and his lips land on her neck, moving across her shoulder, his hands roaming across her waist, then lower, skimming her hips and pushing her dress up her legs. When his hands reach her panties and his fingers dance lightly across her abdomen, she lets out a long, shaky moan and pitches forward just enough to rest her lips against his neck, and another moan escapes her, muffled this time against his skin.

"What the fuck is this?" He pulls her tiny black thong slowly down her legs, holding it up after she steps out of it.

"It's underwear, you idiot." She giggles as he looks at her panties with some measure of amazement.

"Barely," he says. "It wouldn't cover...anything."

"Is that a comment on the size of my arse?" She pouts to cover another giggle as his eyes go wide and he shakes his head.

"God no," he says, emphatically. "Definitely not. You know I love your ass, Mackenzie, it's fucking perfect. If I could stare at it every day, I would, I-"

"You _do_ stare at it every day," she says, grinning at him.

"Maybe I do." His hands move back to her thighs and she moves her legs apart slightly and pushes herself against him, directing his fingers where she wants them.

He looks up at her and grins when he feels how wet she is, and she reaches for his jeans, pulling them down over his hips and biting her lip as he pushes both hands against the wall behind her head so he can kick the jeans off and out of the way.

"I should tell you something. I am fucking stupendously drunk." He stops to kiss her, his tongue running slowly around hers and his hand cupping her face as he pulls back. "So, if this is terrible, like, if it's over in seconds, just know I'm sorry and I'll make it up to you in round two, okay?"

"Mmm, round two, I like the sound of that," she replies. "How did we get this smashed?" 

"No idea." He laughs at her question and kisses her again.

"Just so you know..." She breathes against his mouth, not wanting to pull away completely. "Your eyes are doing the thing they do right now, and I...I love it."

He blinks at her and she hears her own breathing, heavy and irregular as he slides his hand under her knee and lifts her leg, running his fingers across her skin as he glances down at her foot.

"God, those shoes are..." He drifts off and looks back into her eyes.

"You like them?" she asks, gasping as she feels him hard against her thigh, clearly as ready as she is.

"Yeah." He kisses her and pulls her leg to wrap around his waist, his arm under her shoulder to support her against the wall.

"Jesus, Billy." He starts to push inside her and she pauses to adjust. "Are you trying to fuck up your knees for good?!"

"Mackenzie, I'm going to have you up against this wall no matter what," he says, sliding deeper into her. "My knees are just going to have to fucking deal with it."

It's not entirely comfortable and she really _is_ worried about his knees, but God, he somehow has her at just the right angle and she hears herself telling him to go harder, begging almost, and when he does what she asks and drives into her without holding back, she kisses him and moans into his mouth over and over. Her nails are digging into his shoulders and she thinks maybe she's leaving marks, but she can't seem to do anything other than wrap her leg tighter around him as he keeps hitting the right spot, still holding her safely against the wall.

"Shit," he says, slowing slightly. "I'm sorry, I'm going to-"

"It's okay." She wraps her arms around him and kisses the side of his neck. "It's fine, baby, it's fine."

He shakes his head, stubborn to the end, and slides a hand down between them, rubbing small, soft circles against her as she moans loudly, coming against his fingers only seconds later, obviously much closer than she had realised. She shifts slightly to nibble softly on the skin just below his ear and she knows when he comes because his fingers grip harder into her hip and he mumbles her name into the side of her neck. She closes her eyes and only opens them again when she feels his hand lift her chin and sees him looking at her for a fraction of a second before he leans in to kiss her. Pulling out of her, he gently lets her leg drop and she sighs as her foot lands back on the floor.

"I think..." Her legs are shaking and she lets out a giggle as she rests her hands on his shoulders. "You should open some wine while I go to the bathroom."

"I think..." He runs a finger down her nose and grins. "You have the best ideas."

When she comes back from the bathroom, she stands and watches for a minute as he attempts to open the bottle of wine, frowning at first, putting it down on the counter, scratching his head before trying again. She smiles, relieved to know that he's obviously still as drunk as she is, and she wonders briefly if starting to drink all over again at whatever the hell time it is might not be the best idea. Screw it, she thinks, and she walks back into the kitchen, diverting slightly to pick up the cake before walking over to him.

"Will you throw me out if I eat cake in your bed?" She looks up at him through her lashes and smiles hopefully.

"Not if you let me bring the wine," he says, grinning as he holds up the bottle he's just opened.

She follows him into the bedroom, she's still wearing her dress but has discarded the shoes, he's wearing just his shorts and t-shirt. He takes a slug of wine straight from the bottle and hands it to her, watching her do the same as he sits back against the headboard.

She knows he likes to watch her and she feels brave as the wine warms her throat and reminds her again of how much she's had to drink. Tossing him the bag containing the cake, she watches him set it down on the bed beside him as he licks his lips, his eyes fixed firmly on hers.

"Do you like this dress?" she asks, running her hands slowly down her hips.

"I do, it's a _really_ nice dress, Mackenzie." His voice is low, and warmth floods her body, a warmth she knows can't be blamed entirely on the alcohol.

"I like it too." She pauses as she lifts it over her head and drops to the floor, standing at the end of the bed in her black lace bra and the panties she hastily pulled back on in the bathroom. "And I wouldn't want to get cake all over it."

Moving towards him, she runs her fingers slowly through her hair and takes another drink from the bottle before climbing onto the bed and straddling him, sitting back slightly onto his thighs.

"Hi." She giggles and slips her hands into his hair. "How are your knees?"

"Holding up," he says, reaching out and sliding a bra strap off her shoulder, grinning as he does. "Is more wine a good idea?" She frowns, watching his grin get wider.

"It's a very good idea." He nods and she takes another drink, watching him do he same before he speaks again. "If we don't have wine, how are we going to wash the cake down?"

"Oh my God, we have cake!" She grabs the bag and takes a piece out, breaking it in two, putting one piece in her mouth and holding the other out towards him, swallowing her piece just as he puts his into his mouth.

Watching him, she reaches back into the bag and scoops out a heap of buttercream, piling it onto her finger and smirking at him. Sliding her finger into her mouth, she sucks at the sweet vanilla, closing her eyes and letting out a long moan of satisfaction. When she opens them, his eyes are wide, fixed on hers and she puts her finger back into the bag and brings it out with yet another dollop of cream. This time she holds it out towards him and he takes hold of her wrist, bringing her hand closer and taking her finger into his mouth, his tongue licking the cream slowly from her as she squirms in his lap, before he finally frees her finger with an audible pop.

Picking another piece out of the bag, she scrapes off a layer of frosting and puts it in her mouth. Leaning forward, she kisses him and his tongue chases hers, determined to suck up the vanilla sweetness as she moans into his mouth again. Breaking the kiss, he pulls down her other bra strap and she reaches around to undo the clasp and throw the bra over the side of the bed as he brings his mouth to her breast.

His tongue feels hot against her skin and she pulls his head harder against her as he sucks on her nipple, his other hand reaching for her panties.

"You put these back on," he says, stopping what he's doing and lifting his face to look up at her. "Why?"

"I don't know," she says, because she really doesn't know, she doesn't even recall doing it. "I don't remember."

"God, Mac, how did we get this drunk?" He looks at her and sits back against the headboard, smiling lazily at her.

"Champagne," she says. "A lot of champagne. And no food, just cake." 

"Yeah." He runs his hands down her arms and frowns. "That'll do it."

"And then more wine." She points at the bottle, biting her lip. "And more cake." 

"Right," he says. "Fuck. Tell me tomorrow is Saturday."

"I really don't think it is," she answers, wondering how things have suddenly gone from her nipple in his mouth to the two of them lamenting how drunk they are. "Do you think..."

She stops, not sure what she was about to say. Do you think we should have sex again? Do you think we should get some sleep? Do you think I should leave? God, this is ridiculous. Even drunk, she can't bring herself to just say it... _Will, I love that this keeps happening, but I want more_.

"Take them off again." His voice cuts into her thoughts and she looks at him, confused until she remembers his hand on her panties and sees him smiling at her softly, his eyes focused on hers.

"Why?" she asks, watching his hand move up and settle on her nipple, his thumb running over it, flicking lightly until she moans and her eyes drift shut as she wrestles with the room spinning slightly and feels herself grow warm again.

"If you have to ask that question, I've lost my touch," he says, smirking as she opens her eyes again.

"You haven't." She giggles again, the mood suddenly lightened once more. "You really haven't."

She grabs the wine and takes a long mouthful, knowing his eyes are on her neck as she swallows hard and hands the bottle to him. Climbing out of his lap, she rolls onto her back next to him to pull off her panties, watching as he puts down the bottle and peels his t-shirt over his head before sliding his shorts down and onto the floor.

"Seems unfair, only one of us totally naked," he says with a shrug. "Even if it is the one of us who looks best that way."

"I look better naked than dressed?" she asks, not entirely sure that's what he meant and wondering suddenly if she's lying in cake before deciding she doesn't really care.

"I don't think that's what I meant." He frowns and pauses to think. "No, what I meant was, of the two of us, you're the one who looks better naked. Yeah, that's what I meant."

"In your opinion, maybe," she says, her hand reaching out to run slowly down his chest as her eyes follow it and she smiles when she sees he's well on his way to being ready for the second round she was promised earlier. "I like what I'm seeing."

He moves on top of her and takes hold of her hands, threading his fingers through hers as he pushes her back against the pillows, kissing her...soft kisses, harder kisses, turning hungrier and making her moan and writhe under him. As he slides into her this time, he pauses and frowns.

"What?" she asks, unsure why he's stopping when it feels so, _so_ good.

"I think you might be lying on the cake," he says, his expression so serious that she laughs out loud.

"I don't care about the cake." She frees one of her hands from his and pulls his face down to hers to kiss him again as he starts to move inside her.

It's fast this time too, but less desperate drunk and more indulgent drunk than earlier and he seems determined to make her come this time, even though he somehow managed to hold out last time even when she would have totally understood if he hadn't. When her moans get louder and her nails scratch lightly down his back, he pushes her knees up and goes deeper as she wraps her legs around him. She lets out a long, slow moan, and as she comes she bites her lip hard because she nearly, so very _nearly_ tells him she loves him, instinct threatening to take over. Instead, she pulls him to her and buries her face in his neck, encouraging him to come when she knows he's close and scraping her teeth across his skin when he does.

She clambers over him to get to the bathroom, looking back to see that she wasn't lying on the cake at all, and when she looks at herself in the mirror she can't help groaning slightly. She looks drunk and freshly fucked, frankly. What remains of her mascara is mostly smudged under her eyes, her lips are pink and swollen but all traces of lipstick are long gone, and her hair has dried out from the rain into uneven waves that she tries to tuck behind her ears. She reaches for what she thinks is a spare toothbrush, suddenly needing to rid herself of the taste of wine and cake lingering on her tongue. Taking a cloth to her face, she wipes away the messy mascara, sighs at her reflection and sits down on the toilet.

What would he do, she wonders, if she were to walk right back into the bedroom and tell him she loves him? If she were to simply say that this has been amazing but it that only makes her long for more, to wake up with him rather than sneaking out at dawn, to drink coffee with him before work, to reach for him in public without having to pull back at the last second. Walking back into the bedroom, she smiles at the sight that greets her. He's asleep, on his back with one hand across his stomach, the other flung out on the pillow beside him. Climbing back into bed, she doesn't move his arm, she simply shifts lower down the bed and curls up against him, sighing lightly as she drifts into sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He wants her in his bed and not just when they're high, or angry, or drunk, and he has come close more than once to telling her how he feels, that he still loves her, only for the words to stall in his throat._

The day starts with a sweatshirt, his sweatshirt, which he finds folded neatly on his desk, a post-it on top, her familiar writing jumping out at him. _I borrowed this...I washed it. Thanks, M, x_

Friday morning. She must have borrowed it Friday morning when she left before he woke up, creeping out of his apartment once again, apparently unable to bear waking up and discovering him beside her. She said nothing when he got to work, other than asking if his hangover was as bad as hers and smiling sheepishly when he said it was. She sent him a link to an article on Saturday afternoon, her email suggesting they should talk about it for a potential story, and that was it, he didn't hear from her again all weekend. Yesterday was a normal Monday, the only difference being him having to stop himself from touching her more than once, and completely losing himself mid-sentence when she leaned in and her scent overwhelmed him. The show was fine, it was a slow news day, so much so that Sloan got the extra few minutes she's always begging for, and he caught Mackenzie's eye as she gave in to the request, his breath catching slightly as her smile sent him spiralling back to Thursday night.

"Do you have a second?" Her voice startles him and he looks up to see her standing in front of his desk.

"Sure, yeah." He recovers and nods at her, taking the paper she hands to him, his eyes staying on her as she sits down. "What's this?"

"Potential guests for tonight," she says, crossing her legs and leaning back slightly in the chair. "It would appear to be National Barrel Scraping Day, because _that_ is the best we can do."

"Right," he says as he skims down the list of names and shakes his head. "I've never heard of a single one of these people."

"Dammit." She sighs and tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "I was hoping there might be someone on there who potentially isn't completely crazy."

"I'm sure there probably is," he says, smiling at her. "But I'm fucked if I know which one." 

"Alright." She stands up and smooths down her skirt. "I'll have Maggie make some calls." 

"Thanks," he says, as she turns towards the door. "For the sweatshirt."

"Oh, yeah." She nods and he can't take his eyes off her bottom lip as she bites it nervously. "Sorry, I just...I didn't have a jacket or anything, and...anyway, thanks."

As she walks out, he wonders if she can sense that he's watching her, that he can't seem to look at her legs anymore without thinking of them wrapped around him when he's inside her. He thought he was okay with this, with this... _thing_ they seem to have going on, he thought he was fine with just sex, if that's all she wants, but he's starting to wonder how much longer before he has to put an end to it, because he wants more, he wants her, all of her. He wants her in his bed and not just when they're high, or angry, or drunk, and he has come close more than once to telling her how he feels, that he still loves her, only for the words to stall in his throat.

In the end, she was right to worry about the list of potential crazies, because it's exactly what they end up with. From the second he sits down at the desk, his fidgeting guest beside him, it is quite clear the interview is doomed, and when his fourth question in a row is answered with just one word, Will is ready to push the guy out of his seat. Mackenzie tells him to wrap it up, they can cut to commercials ten seconds early, and by the time Maggie appears to show the guest out of the studio, Will is sighing heavily.

"That went well." He looks up as Mackenzie comes in and stands at the desk, frowning at her. "Did you even bother to fucking prep him, Mac?"

"Yes, I prepped him!" She glares at him, her hands on her hips. "He had the questions, he seemed to be ready, I don't know what happened. I'm sorry I wasn't able to get inside his fucking head, I'll try harder next time!"

She turns to walk away and he grabs her arm, waiting for her to turn back, expecting exactly the fury he sees in her eyes when she does.

"I'm sorry," he says, quietly. "I know we were up against it from the start with that list. I'm sorry, it's not your fault."

"No, it's not," she says, her words clipped, her eyes bright. "Not everything is my fault." 

"Mac--" he calls after her as she walks away but she doesn't turn back.

"Thirty back." He watches as she pushes angrily through the door and heads back to the control room, and he curses under his breath.

They manage to get through the next segment unscathed, and then it really begins to unravel when the sound link from the studio to the control room starts to drop intermittently. For two minutes, Will can hear Mackenzie but she can't hear him, for the next four minutes it switches and he can't hear a damn thing. He wings one section entirely and even though his script and running order are in front of him, he feels oddly disconnected without her voice in his ear, even when she's doing nothing but yelling at him.

"Thank Christ for that!" Her voice pops abruptly back into his ear and he has to smother a grin. "I think we have it working again. Tap your pen if you can hear me, Will."

He taps his pen and continues, handing over to Washington for a three minute segment when Mackenzie tells him to and sighing in relief.

"Everything going okay in there?" he asks, cautiously.

"Like a dream, Billy," she answers immediately. "NASA's control room has nothing on us."

"You'll let me know if I'm about to be launched into space, right?" He grins into the camera and hears her snort gently into his ear.

"Your suit didn't get here on time," she says. "It might have to wait until tomorrow night."

"Good," he says, tugging on his tie. "Wardrobe would shit a brick if you sent me into space in their finest Armani tie."

"Hugo Boss." He hears the smile in her voice and he looks into the camera again. "It's a Hugo Boss tie, but yeah, I think they'd be pissed either way. Of course, I'm sure even from space you'd find a way to make sure I got the blame-"

"I said I was sorry." He cuts in and hears her sigh into his ear, trying not to flinch as the sound of her breath distracts him for a second.

"Yeah, yeah." She lets out a longer breath and if he didn't know better he would swear she was doing it deliberately to ruffle him.

"Mac." He tries again. "I-"  
"  
Will." She cuts him off and he sighs pointedly into the camera. "Shut up."

Unbelievably, it gets worse before the show is over. They lose a monitor, and a second guest simply cannot be located despite being prepped and left sitting in hair and make-up, told to please not move until a producer calls for them. By nine, Will knows Mackenzie is furious with herself, even though it really does seem like they have just had the worst luck tonight. She saved everything that went wrong, covered the gaps, made sure he was aware of the problems and still able to continue. He sits for a few minutes, thinking she's quite likely to storm in here and start to rant, and he's ready to tell her it wasn't such a disaster, and that he doubts anyone even noticed.

When she doesn't appear, he pulls his earpiece out and goes to find her. She's gone from the control room by the time he makes it in there, and she isn't in her office either. He decides to get changed and then try again to find her, guessing she's more than likely in a neighbouring control room or editing bay, pinning down whichever tech wizard can guarantee that none of this will happen again tomorrow. He's heading for his office when he sees Sloan walking towards him.

"I heard you guys had a hell of a show tonight," she says, stopping in front of him, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah, you could say that." He sighs and glances over her shoulder before turning back to her. "I don't suppose you've seen Mac?"

"I haven't." She shakes her head, pausing but then deciding to continue. "You know, sometimes shit like this just happens."

"I know that," he says, frowning as he realises what she's saying. "Wait, I'm not looking for her to-"

"Whatever, Will." She holds up her hand. "I'm just saying, I'm sure Mackenzie managed to make it a fuck load less of a mess than it could have been, so...you know, don't fly off the damn handle."

"Your advice, as ever, is greatly appreciated." He rolls his eyes and walks away.

"Will!" Sloan calls after him and he turns back. "I think...I'm pretty sure she left already." 

"Alright." He nods in her direction. "Thanks."

When he arrives at her building, he stands for a minute outside, the possibility hitting him that maybe she ran out so fast because she has plans, maybe she has a date. He has no idea if she's dating, if she's seeing anyone...he doesn't think so, but fuck, he could be wrong. Taking a breath, he pushes her buzzer and waits.

"Hello?" Her hesitant voice comes across the line.

"Mac, it's me," he says. "Can I come up?"

She doesn't reply but the door buzzes gently and he pushes it open, heading up to her apartment and finding her door slightly ajar. Walking in, he calls her name and hears her response telling him she's in the kitchen. Her back is to him, she's wearing a fitted black Army t-shirt and grey leggings, her feet bare, and she doesn't turn when he moves to stand behind her.

"Drink?" she asks, holding up the bottle of wine she was about to start pouring. "Sure, thanks," he says, nodding as she reaches for an extra glass.

"Look, I know tonight was a total clusterfuck on my side of the camera, I'm well aware of that." She hands him the glass and walks past him towards the living room. "I've spoken to tech, and I'm going to follow up first thing in the morning, so if you're here to give me a hard time, I'm really, _really_ not in the mood."

"Hey." He sits down next to her on the couch and puts his hand on her shoulder. "I'm not here to give you a hard time. Jesus, do you think I'm a total fucking ass?"

"No," she says, looking at him in surprise. "Billy, no, I just thought...well, I fucked up in there tonight and-"

"The equipment fucked up, Mac." He shakes his head and his thumb starts to stroke her shoulder softly. "And that idiot from the guest list of shame, I mean, what the hell was wrong with him?"

"At least he didn't disappear entirely like the second one." She laughs and it's a relief to see the frown lift from her face. "Anyway, we've had worse."

"Miss Oklahoma?" he asks, smiling.

"To name but one, yeah." She stops and takes a drink. "If you didn't come to yell at me, then..." 

"You took off before I could come and find you," he says, shrugging slightly.

"Yeah, I was pissed off at myself and I didn't want to end up taking it out on anyone else." She smiles at him. "It's a good strategy."

"I'll bear it in mind." He returns her smile. "I really just wanted to make sure you were okay." "Oh, right," she says, smiling softly. "Now who's the total arse?"

"You _are_ okay?" he asks, reaching for his wine and taking a sip, his eyes still on her as he places the glass back on the table.

"I'm fine." Her hand moves to his leg, resting gently and hesitating slightly before she squeezes, biting her lip as she looks up at him. "You know what I'm like, I'm not very good when things go to shit and it's pretty much out of my control."

"I know," he says, his eyes following her finger as it traces a slow line up his thigh before he pulls his gaze back to her face. "Mackenzie..."

"Hmm?" She blinks and smiles at him.

"You know the show really wasn't all that bad tonight," he says, returning her smile. "We can do an autopsy on it though, if it'll make you feel better?"

"I really don't think it would." She shakes her head, laughing slightly. "You'd probably just start pointing out things I hadn't even noticed and make it worse."

"Not really what I was thinking," he says. "But fair enough, I guess."

"I can think of something else that _would_ make me feel better..." She stops and before he can process it, her hands move to his chest, sliding slowly upwards.

"Is it something I can help with?" She doesn't answer, instead moving her hands up to frame his face and before he's aware of it, her lips are on his.

He slides his hands into her hair and deepens the kiss, his thumbs running across her cheekbones as he feels her tongue pushing against his, her breath warm and sweet in his mouth. He pulls her closer, almost dragging her half into his lap and he feels her sigh against him as her hands slip under his shirt, dancing lightly across his skin. When he reaches under her t-shirt, she stops him and he opens his eyes and pulls his lips from hers, relieved to see a smile on her face.

She moves off his lap and stands up, reaching for his hand and pulling him to her, kissing him again quickly before she turns and starts to lead him down the hall. She walks into her bedroom and flicks on the lamp beside her bed as he glances around, realising he's never been in here before. In her apartment, yes, but never in the bedroom. As his eyes meet hers, it's clear she has come to the same realisation and there are a few seconds, barely a heartbeat really, of strange awkwardness, and he can't pinpoint why. He wonders if it's because this time feels different somehow. They're both lucid, not high or drunk, and not almost fully dressed in his office bathroom. She's standing in front of him, in her leggings and her t-shirt, with her feet bare and her face scrubbed of make-up, looking at him like she wants him, nothing influencing her other than sheer instinct, and it feels like it might drive him crazy.

He kicks off his shoes and she sits down on the end of the bed, reaching for his belt and starting to divest him of his jeans, stroking her hands down his thighs and looking up at him through her dark lashes. Leaning down to kiss her, he pushes her gently back onto the bed and peels her leggings off slowly before lifting her leg and running his tongue up the front of her foot, to her ankle and then moving up her calf with soft, tiny kisses. When he reaches her knee, his mouth still pressed against her skin as his fingers trail across her thigh, she moans and closes her eyes, giving him the chance to watch her as she arches her back and grips the bedsheets tightly in her fists.

She moans again as he moves his lips to her thigh, his tongue darting out to taste her as he reaches her panties, his teeth scraping across her skin as he pulls the lace into his mouth and lets out a long breath, hot against her. Letting go, the elastic snaps back against her and she sighs his name as he slides his hands higher, taking hold of her panties and pulling them down slowly, feeling her legs moving restlessly under his touch. He moves higher up the bed and she pushes her hands into his hair so she can pull him to her and kiss him. Her mouth opens slowly and he explores with his tongue, pushing it against hers, and sucking tenderly on her bottom lip as she releases a breathy moan into his mouth.

He slips his hands under her t-shirt and she sits up just enough to pull it over her head, laughing at what he assumes is his surprise at discovering she's wearing nothing underneath.

"I wasn't exactly..." She pauses, her breath catching as he runs his thumbs across her nipples and down to her ribs. "Expecting visitors."

He laughs against her stomach, his tongue circling her belly button, her hands once again in his hair as she throws her head back and groans. It takes him a second but when he reaches the scar on her abdomen that he has completely failed to notice before now, his tongue stills and he feels a huge wave of something he can't name for sure, but that feels a lot like guilt, like shame. He knows the exact second she realises because her hands pull on his hair until he lifts his head and looks up at her.

“Will?” He hears her hesitancy and he thinks she knows exactly why he’s stopped, her next words confirming it. “If you’ve stopped for the reason I think you have, I swear to fucking God…”

He could kick himself, the last thing he wants to do is make her think he doesn’t want this, that the scar makes her any less attractive, but he also can’t seem to think clearly, overwhelmed with the guilt that there would _be_ no scar if it hadn’t been for him being so fucking stubborn.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his mouth moving against her skin, his thumb tracing the length of the scar. 

“Hey..." She runs her fingers through his hair.

“I just didn’t. I…” He starts but pauses, unsure of what he’s trying to tell her. “I hadn’t seen it before, or I hadn’t noticed, I guess,… _fuck_ , Mackenzie.”

“Which is exactly what I was hoping you were about to do before you stopped.” There’s amusement in her voice and it floors him that she can find this funny while he wants to just hold on to her and apologise for his part in all of this. The scar, the stabbing, all of it.

“I’m sorry.” He repeats his words quietly, and it’s all he can seem to manage, because he’s an idiot, a complete fucking idiot.

“Listen, Billy,” she says, tugging on his hair until he looks up at her. “Do you fucking want me right now or don’t you?”

He hesitates because he can’t believe she could think for even a second that he doesn’t want her, now or anytime, but she takes his hesitation as just that and looks away, sliding her hands out of his hair and reaching for her t-shirt.

“Fine,” she says with a sigh. “You don’t want to do this, so _fine_ , get off me.”

“What?” He lifts his head from her stomach and crawls up so his face is level with hers, his elbows on either side of her.

“I said, if you don’t want to do this…” She refuses to look at him. “Then you should probably get off me, and just-“

“No,” he says firmly, determined now to fix the mess this has somehow become. “Look at me.”

“I don’t want to talk about my stupid scar.” She finally looks back at him and her eyes are bright, steely, a complete contrast to the softness he saw in them just moments earlier. “I don’t actually want to talk at all. I just want to…God, Will, I just want you to fuck me. Is that really too much to ask? If you don’t want-“

He grabs her hands and pushes her arms back against the pillow, stopping her with a kiss, running his tongue along her bottom lip, relieved when she opens her mouth and lets him in, meeting his tongue with her own and sighing softly. Shifting his weight slightly, he settles himself between her legs, nudging his hips into hers, as he pulls out of the kiss.

“Does this feel like I don’t want you?” he asks, smiling at her when she laughs and pulls her fingers from his to reach once again for him, dragging his mouth back to hers.

He returns her kiss before turning his attention to her neck, her collarbone, the freckle on her left shoulder. Her hands slide under his shirt, pushing it up, trying in vain to undo enough buttons to remove it, sighing in frustration before he finally moves off her to sit up and pull the shirt over his head.

"Lose the shorts while you're there," she says with a smirk, watching as he peels them off and moves behind her.

Pushing her hair to one side and sliding his leg between hers, he reaches around her and rests his hand on her stomach, his index finger making small swirling patterns above her belly button. Her hand covers his and moves it higher, the backs of their fingers brushing against the underside of her breast as she runs a foot down his leg. He touches the base of her neck softly with his lips and she moans as she pulls his hand higher still until it rests on her breast. His palm slides slowly across her skin and he feels her nipple start to harden under his touch, her hand letting go of his to slide down his arm as she squirms, moaning again as he holds her in place.

He kisses the back of her neck, and she pushes herself back against him as her hand grips his arm and his tongue runs lightly up her neck. When his teeth scrape lightly across her skin, she lets out a long breath and he feels his hardness pressing up against the back of her thigh. He's reminded of early mornings years ago, and he remembers how he would wake up wrapped around her, her foot running up his leg, his nose buried in her hair, inhaling the smell of her.

"Don't stop," she says, breathily, dragging him from his memories. "Please."

His hand moves down her thigh and he hooks it under her knee, lifting her leg as he kisses the back of her neck again because he just can't seem to get enough of the taste of her there. Her fingers trail lightly across the back of his hand before her hand moves lower, and he feels himself grow even harder against her as he realises she's touching herself, hears her breath change as her fingers slide down into her wetness. His lips move to her shoulder and he sucks gently on her skin as she writhes against him, her fingers moving faster as her moans grow louder. Murmuring her name, he licks circles into her back, and when he can tell by the sounds she's making that she's about to come, he threads his hand through her hair, gently cupping the back of her head. She pushes back against him and lets out a groan as she shudders, her breathing heavy as she comes, and she surprises him by turning suddenly to face him.

Her face is flushed, her eyes are darker than ever, the hazel totally drowning the blue as it so often does, and she licks her lips as she brings her hand to her mouth. He stops her before she can slip her fingers into her mouth, pulling them into his own instead and licking them slowly dry, the taste of her filling his mouth and clouding his brain. She watches him, saying nothing, and when he drops her hand, she kisses him and hooks her leg over his hip. Guiding himself slowly into her, he carries on kissing her as she moans, her hand gripping his arm as he pushes deeper inside her. He skims his hand along her thigh and she moves hers to his face, her fingers softly caressing his cheek as he pulls her leg a fraction higher, her mouth opening a touch wider against his and a soft moan emitting from her. He moves slowly inside her, running his fingers down towards her knee, stopping when she breathes and pulls out of the kiss. For a second he thinks she’s going to move, to bury her head into the side of his neck like she has each time before, but she surprises him by looking right at him, their faces almost touching and her eyes soft, her pupils deep, dark pools he wishes he could dive right into.

This feels different to him, and the look in her eyes tells her she feels it too, yet he can’t bring himself to vocalise it, not now when the last thing he wants is to risk that look slipping from her face to be replaced by something lacking in certainty, something without the hot intensity currently simmering behind her eyes. He knows this is the moment, one of many, when he would have once whispered "I love you", and he wishes he could do it now, wondering briefly if it would ruin everything if he did.

“Harder, Will.” Her voice is barely a whisper and her fingers continue to trace lightly across his cheek.

He doesn’t speed up, but he slides harder into her, before pulling back and into her again, still slow and keeping his eyes on hers as he pushes deep, so damn deep. When she lets out a long, throaty moan he leans forward and kisses her, his hand on her lower back pulling her tighter to him. This time when her mouth breaks away from his, she does move her head to snuggle into the side of his neck, her lips finding his ear lobe and sucking gently. Her hand moves into his hair and he groans as he starts to move faster inside her, all thoughts flying from his brain as she breathes softly into his ear. Her name falls from his lips as he comes and she drags him to her again, kissing him and then smiling against his mouth as he moves to pull out of her, her hand on his shoulder holding him in place.

"Uh-uh," she says, biting her lip as her eyes lock onto his. "Stay where you are."

"Okay," he murmurs, smiling as she runs her hand across his shoulder. "But you know, this is going to need to come out of you at some point."

"I know," she says, laughing softly, her gaze shifting down his chest. "We'll never get to work like this."

She closes her eyes and tucks herself against him, letting out a contented sigh as he runs his hand down her arm and tangles his fingers through hers. When he does inevitably slide out of her, she presses her lips to his, barely kissing him at all, almost as if she just wants to feel her breath mingling with his. They lie in silence for a few minutes and he listens to her breathing, the soft, familiar sound he remembers soothing him to sleep on so many nights, and when she eventually gets up to head to the bathroom he has to force himself to let go of her hand.

When he wakes at five am, she's still sleeping, her leg draped across his and her hand on his chest. He turns slightly so he can watch her beside him in the early morning light, a faint frown on her face that he wonders if he is responsible for somehow. There's a hint of a flush in her cheeks that he is fairly sure he _can_ claim responsibility for, and he has a moment of sadness when he realises that, in all of this, he hasn't told her how beautiful she still is. The next time he wakes it's almost seven and her side of the bed is empty. He rolls slowly out of bed, uses the bathroom, and throws his jeans and shirt quickly back on before making his way down the hall.

He stops before he walks into the kitchen, standing and watching her. She has made coffee, and she's reaching for a spoon while most of her hair makes a successful bid to escape from the ponytail she has forced it into. Wearing her Army t-shirt from the night before, her leggings have been replaced by pink pyjama pants rolled up at the bottom, and he wonders how someone with legs as long as Mackenzie's can still manage to find pants that need to be rolled up. When she turns to grab a mug, she spots him and jumps slightly.

"Sorry," he says quickly. "I didn't mean to...sorry."

"It's fine," she says, shaking her head. "I didn't know you were there, I didn't realise you were awake, I wasn't...coffee?"

He nods and walks into the kitchen, leaning against the counter but staying out of her way as she pours two mugs of coffee and hands one to him, a half smile on her face.

"Thanks," he says, taking a sip and looking at her as she does the same.

He tries more than once to try to break the awkward silence but he can't seem to make the words come out, and when he looks at her he sees the half smile has gone and she's biting her lip anxiously, unlike the way she was biting it last night.

"Mac..." He starts to speak but she steps over to him and for the briefest of seconds he thinks she's going to kiss him, until she squeezes his arm and looks up at him, her eyes sad and no trace of her smile remaining.

"I really should take a shower," she says, stepping past him, mug in hand. "Help yourself to more coffee, or breakfast, if you want something. I'm going to..."

She walks back down the hall and disappears into the bathroom, leaving him standing there, annoyed with himself once again for saying nothing, for managing nothing more than her name, followed up only with silence. It suddenly occurs to him that she probably doesn't want to see him still standing in her kitchen when she comes back out, so he finishes his coffee and looks around for a notepad, spotting one on the living room table. Picking it up, he scribbles a quick note, leaving it on the kitchen counter beside the coffee pot. _Thanks for the coffee. See you at the office. W, x_


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"I know, I know. It hasn't been like that every time, that was just...God, I'm not sure what that was, really." She stops, thinking about the last time, two nights ago, and how it felt a world away from the quick twenty minutes in his bathroom. "On Tuesday night, we...it happened again and it was different this time, it was...I don't know, I can't explain it, but it felt like...almost like it used to."_

"You _do_ know I have a show from eight to nine, right?" She answers her sister's call as she walks into her office.

"What, and you can't pick up during the commercials?" Harriet asks.

"No!" she says, sitting down at her desk and shaking her head. "Is something wrong?" "Not with me, no." Harriet pauses, sighing down the phone. "What's going on with you?"

"Oh, you know, just busy, as usual." She looks up as Will walks in and hovers just inside the door. "Hold on one sec, Harry."

"Sorry, I..." Will shrugs and takes a step back.

"It's fine," she says, smiling at him. "Did you need something?"

"No, I was just..." He stops and runs a hand across the back of his neck. "I'm going to grab a quick drink, if you wanted to-"

"Sounds good." She stops him. "I'll meet you over there?"

He nods and she watches him go, her eyes following him across the bullpen until he disappears from view.

"Was that Will?" Harriet's voice drags her back.

"Yep," she says, knowing her sister has more to say. "He's just headed out for a drink. I'm going to meet him over there, so I should really get moving. If everything's okay with you, can we talk tomorrow?"

"Is that still happening?" Harriet gets right to the point. "Whatever the fuck it is, is it still going on?"

"Harry, I..." She gives up and sighs. "Yes, it is, it's still happening, okay? Go ahead, lecture me, I'm ready. Say what you've got to say, you couldn't possibly make me feel any shittier."

"Well," Harriet says, pausing briefly. "You just answered my next question. Are you happy with that? With just sleeping with him? Is that what you want?"

"No, of course it's not what I want!" she snaps, stopping abruptly, knowing she shouldn't be taking it out on her sister. "I want to be in his bed wearing his fucking ring, not getting banged on the counter in his bloody bathroom." 

"His _bathroom_?" Harriet asks. "Jesus."

"I know, I know. It hasn't been like that every time, that was just...God, I'm not sure what that was, really." She stops, thinking about the last time, two nights ago, and how it felt a world away from the quick twenty minutes in his bathroom. "On Tuesday night, we...it happened again and it was different this time, it was...I don't know, I can't explain it, but it felt like...almost like it used to."

"You still love him, don't you?" Harriet's voice softens and she waits for a response.

"Of course I do," she says quietly. "I've loved him forever, Harry, I just don't think he's ever going to love me again. I don't think he can forgive me, or...I mean, he doesn't hate me any more, I don't think, and he obviously still-"

"Finds you as hot as hell. As he fucking should," Harriet cuts in. 

"You need to talk to him, babe." "I know." She sighs heavily. "I just don't know where to begin."

"Will, don't get me wrong, the sex has been awesome, but here's the thing, I really fucking love you and we can't keep doing this because it's killing me?" Harriet stops, sounding unreasonably proud of her suggestion.

"Slightly dramatic," she says, rolling her eyes. "But I'll bear it in mind. Look, I really should go." 

"One more thing," Harriet says quickly.

"What?" She wonders what final thought her sister has.

"Say there's a really nice guy, successful, hot, you know...and he asked you to dinner." Harriet pauses for just a second. "Would you go?"

"I don't..." She sighs. "I know what you're doing, I know what you're getting at. You think I'm putting my life on hold waiting for Will, don't you?"

"I think that as a beautiful, single woman, that should have been an easy question," Harriet answers.

"God, Harry," she says. "Not everything is that simple."

"Talk to him," Harriet says, firmly. "And keep Saturday free, I'm going to drive over and we're going to go shopping."

"Harry, I'm fine." She sighs knowing as she protests that her sister won't take no for an answer. "You don't need to-"

"I'm coming over, we're going shopping, and that's the end of it," Harriet says. "Alright, go, and talk to him, Trip, for fuck's sake."

"Yeah, I'll try," she answers. "I'll see you on Saturday."

When she walks into Hang Chews, she sees some of the team at a table across the room and she returns the wave Jim gives her, before walking over to where Will is sitting alone at the bar. She smiles when she sees he has a drink ready for her and slides onto the stool beside him.

"Hey," he says, turning to her. "Your sister okay?"

"Yeah, fine." She nods. "Her usual perfect timing, calling mid-show making me think something terrible has happened, when she just wants to chat. Thanks for the drink."

"No problem," he says as he smiles at her. "You want to go sit with the others?"

"Maybe in a minute." She takes a deep breath and she watches as he frowns slightly, but she carries on. "Can we talk? About what's been going on...with us, I mean?"

"You mean, the fact that we've been...ending up, you know..." He drifts off, his gaze shifting from her to his drink.

"Sex, Will," she says. "You can say it. For various reasons, or things we can blame it on, we keep ending up having sex, and it's been-"

"Sorry to interrupt." Nina's voice stops her in her tracks as she appears next to them, barely glancing in her direction, her attention focused solely on Will. "I've been thinking-"

"Really? You shouldn't strain yourself," he says, turning back to his drink.

"Charming as ever," Nina says, reaching into her purse and putting her card down on the bar. "Despite that, I was thinking...you and me, Will, dinner sometime...call me."

Mackenzie watches Nina as she slides the card in front of him, and then she watches Will, trying to read him, trying to figure out what he's thinking but she can't, he's inscrutable and it makes her uneasy. She realises this is it, she needs to talk to him, and the burning jealousy she feels as Nina turns away is proof that things can't go on as they are.

"Well," she says, watching as Nina walks out, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "I had no idea...I mean, how did I miss _that_ being a thing?"

"What?" He frowns and has the good grace to look genuinely confused, she'll give him that.

"You and...gossip girl." She points in the direction of the door even though Nina is long gone, only her card remaining on the bar in front of Will.

"I don't..." He pauses, recognition dawning in his eyes. "Hang on, you think I'm...you think something's going on? With her?"

"I think maybe I was good for when you were feeling nostalgic, or perhaps when you were in the mood for a brunette," she says, feeling faintly sick that she could have missed this, and angry that she cares so much. "Or when blondie there was busy. I think-"

"Mac." He stops her, cutting her off mid-flow, reaching for her but pulling back when she folds her arms in front of her on the bar and blocks his attempt. "There is nothing, _nothing_ , going on between Nina and me! Jesus, I don't remember the last time I even saw the woman, I-"

"Really? And here I was, thinking maybe she gets dinner before you fuck her!" She knows her voice is raised a little too loud but she can feel herself on the verge of losing control completely and she fears there's no going back now.

"Mackenzie, what the fuck?!" His voice is louder now too and he stops, picks up Nina's card and tears it to pieces, throwing it to the floor. "I have no interest in Nina Howard."

"Fine!" Over his shoulder she sees a couple of the staff glance over in their direction and realises how loud they're yelling. "Fine."

She picks up her drink, finishes it in three big gulps and climbs down from the stool.

"Wait, where are you going?" he asks, his hand resting briefly on her arm before she shrugs it off. 

"Home," she says, her voice quieter. "I can't do this any more, Will, I just...can't."

"You can't do what?" he asks and she looks up at him, surprised at his suddenly combative tone.

"You know what I'm talking about." Her hackles are raised again. If he wants a fight, he's going to get one. "I'm talking about how you and me keep falling into bed together. I know it's down to me as much as to you, I'm not blaming you, but I can't keep doing it, I just can't fucking do it any more, I feel like-"

"You feel like what?" He asks, his voice rising. "What?"

"I feel like, like..." She pauses but he raises an eyebrow and it tips her inexplicably back into fury, until she hurls the rest of her words at him. "I feel like your dirty little secret!"

"That's _not_ what you are," he says, throwing his hands in the air. "Holy shit, Mac, that's not even close...how can you think-"

"Because it's how I feel, Will!" she yells, again noticing their staff looking worried out of the corner of her eye, but completely unable to stop.

"I thought..." He pauses, sighing heavily. "I thought we were-"

"You thought what? What did you think? Seriously, I have no idea what you're thinking right now. I hardly ever do!" She sees Jim and Neal stand up and start to head warily towards them, but still she keeps yelling. "A week ago, you ate cake out of my _mouth_ , Will, and the next day we both acted like nothing had happened. Then on Tuesday, two _nights_ ago, you kissed my fucking scar like it was…like you were, like it mattered…like you cared.”

“I do care!” His eyes go wide as his voice again gets louder. “You think I don’t care?”

"No, I don’t, I don’t know…I just know that Tuesday night felt different somehow, like something shifted, am I the only one who felt that?” she says, no longer yelling at him but suddenly unable to look at him as it dawns on her that maybe it was no different at all for him. “Oh God, I am, aren’t I? I’m a complete idiot.”

"You're not an idiot, Mac, you're _not_! It _was_ different." He lowers his voice slightly again. "And I do care. I just don't have any idea what you want! I thought what we were doing was what you wanted, you said you'd moved on, you were-"

"I never moved on, I tried because I didn't think I had a choice, but I've never moved on, I just can't!" She yells again and he steps even closer. "I can't move on because I know what I want but I can't have it, I want-"

"What? What _do_ you want?" He looks at her, desperation in his eyes.

"You, Will, I want _you_!" The words are out of her mouth before she can stop them, and she realises this is it, she has just laid everything on the line and his wide eyed silence so far isn't exactly encouraging.

"What?" He finally speaks, still staring at her, incredulous, so she pushes on, knowing she has nothing to lose any more.

"I've always wanted you, and I stupidly thought all the times this kept happening, the more we slept together, the more likely it was you might realise you felt something more for me, but it was just sex to you, wasn't it?" Jim and Neal have moved closer but she notices they seem to have decided not to intervene for the moment, and even though she knows they can hear everything,she is way beyond caring or stopping herself now. "You still hate me...oh, you forget it briefly when we having sex, I get that, but then-"

"I don't hate you, Mackenzie, please don't say that." He pleads with her. "I _don't_ -"

"Maybe you don't," she says, feeling her voice shake as she realises she could be about to ruin everything. "But you're never going to forgive me, and you don't want me-"

"What?" His eyes widen again and he pulls her to him, his hands on her waist as she bites her lip to prevent what she thinks may be a sob from escaping. "Mackenzie..."

"I know, you don't have to say it, I know." She feels sick, then confused as she feels his thumbs rubbing small, comforting circles on her stomach. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have expected anything, I know I ruined it the first time, I know you can't forgive me, and if you can't forgive me then you sure as hell can't love me again, I-"

"Love you _again_?" He splutters and if her heart didn't feel like it was breaking for the second time at the hands of Will McAvoy, she would probably find his thinly veiled panic amusing. "I never stopped!"

"You...I don't..." She stutters and his fingers move again, this time pulling her closer to him. "What?!"

"I love you." She can't quite believe what she's hearing and she feels a slightly stunned smile spreading across her face as he continues. "I always have, I never stopped...I never will. I've been such a fucking idiot."

"But I thought..." She shakes her head and a giggle escapes unexpectedly. "I thought you just wanted...fuck, I don't know what I thought. God, I wish you'd said something, I wish _I_ had. I wish-"

"If you knew how close I was the other night to just telling you I wanted more," he says, moving a hand from her waist to gently cup her face. "So many times, Mac, I swear."

"How much more?" She asks quietly, needing to hear it clearly before she can believe it. "I just...what exactly do you want?"

"All of it, everything," he says, firmly, stroking his thumb slowly across her bottom lip. "I want _you_ , all of you, every day, every night, always, forever...am I being clear enough?"

"Perfectly." She smiles and he leans down to kiss her, his lips soft and familiar against hers, this time without the desperation that comes from not knowing if it's the last time she'll feel them on her. "God, we're idiots."

"We need to talk, don't we?" he asks as he pulls back, his hand still on her face.

"We probably do, yeah." She nods, smiling at him, knowing he's right and glad he's ready, because she's been ready for a long time. "We also need to face that lot over there, especially Jim and Neal who've been hovering since we started yelling at each other to see if they needed to step in."

He surprises her by wrapping his arm around her and turning to where Jim and Neal are standing, Jim running his hand awkwardly through his hair, Neal opening staring at them, a grin on his face.

"I'm guessing you heard most of that?" There's clear amusement in Will's tone and it makes her laugh as she tucks herself tighter against him, taking in Jim's embarrassment and Neal's blatant glee.

"Um, I really don't know what the right answer to that is," Jim says, looking at her first and then back to Will.

"Pretty sure the whole bar heard most of that," Neal says, shrugging as he tries to hide his grin.

"You're okay?" Jim asks, looking directly at her, concern in his eyes that fades slightly when she smiles at him and nods.

"Alright," he says, glancing at Will before turning to Neal. "We should get the rest of the guys some more drinks."

They move along the bar and she turns to Will, wondering what happens next. Her answer comes as he steps forward and wraps his arms around her, running his hands down her back as he pulls her tightly against him. She has always loved him holding her and it feels like so long since she's been in his arms like this, with no awkwardness, just comfortable and safe, feeling like she's where she should be.

"I missed you," he murmurs into her hair and she feels herself sigh.

"I missed _you_ ," she says, her arms tightening around him. "Every day."

"Have dinner with me?" He drops a kiss to the top of her head and she smiles as she pulls back to look up at him.

"Dinner before we get naked?" She quirks an eyebrow and he smirks. "I feel so special, Billy."

"I'd have taken you for dinner every time, you know." He strokes a finger slowly down her cheek, his expression turning serious. "If I'd known you wanted the same thing I did."

"I know that _now_ ," she says, leaning up and kissing him quickly as she threads her fingers through his. "You know, the last time I got this angry with you, we ended up in your bathroom."

"Yeah." He squeezes her hand and she smiles at him as he starts to lead her towards the door. "No bathrooms tonight, I promise."

She doesn't eat much dinner, it's late and her stomach is churning as she takes in everything that has happened in the last few hours, but it is nice to sit in a restaurant with him, to be able to reach across and hold his hand, to look at him for as long as she wants. They are walking into her apartment when it hits her properly, the fact that she was thinking he wanted nothing more than occasional sex while he was thinking the very same thing. It makes her laugh that they stupidly thought they could possibly work with that kind of arrangement and for it not to drive one or both of them crazy.

"What's so funny?" he asks as they walk into the living room.

"I don't know, really, just..." She shakes her head, turning back and smiling at him. "What were we thinking, really? That we could go on as we were indefinitely?"

"I was thinking." He pauses briefly. "Hoping, really, that one of the times I tried to tell you how I felt the words might actually come out of my mouth."

"And I was thinking the more I reeled you in with my charms, the more likely it was you'd fall back in love with me." Smiling, she reaches for his hand and tangles her fingers loosely with his. 

"Needn't have bothered had I known it was already a done deal."

"Yeah, well..." He smiles back and pulls her closer. "Your efforts didn't go unnoticed."

"Glad to hear it." Tugging on his hand, she pulls him over to the couch, kicking off her shoes and turning to face him as he sits down next to her.

She watches as his hand reaches for her and she feels the backs of his fingers stroke slowly across her face as he smiles at her, his affection obvious and open, making her wonder just how she didn't see it there before. Probably because he was as worried as she was about showing vulnerability, about opening himself up to potential hurt, maybe more so after she hurt him so badly before. As much as she hates the idea of raising the subject of Brian, and what she did, she knows they need to talk and she hopes he knows she will never, ever hurt him again.

"Mac?" His fingers stop moving and he looks at her with concern.

"Sorry." She smiles at him, shifting closer and resting her arm on the back of the couch, tucking her legs up underneath her. "I was just thinking, I guess. It's been quite a night."

"It has," he says, moving his hand to her leg, resting it softly on her thigh. "Do you want to talk?"

"I know we have things to talk about..." She shakes her head and covers his hand with hers, relief flooding through her at being able to touch him without awkwardness, without worrying about what he will think, about what it means. "But unless you have a burning urge to talk right this second, can we maybe table it?"

"Yeah, definitely." He nods, smiling at her again.

"I like the thought of you being here in the morning." Her words sound silly to her own ears, but she's glad she can be honest with him now. "I mean, rather than my waking up to find you gone and then wondering what trail of awkwardness I'll be spending the morning trying to navigate."

"Honey, I should tell you something," he says. "If you don't want me here in the mornings, you're probably going to need to kick me out, not going to lie."

"I won't be kicking you out." She feels herself beaming at him as she laces her fingers through his, pausing to appreciate the moment, the exhilaration of something old becoming new again. "Let's go to bed."

When he kisses her, it feels like it did the last time, like he wants more, like he wants everything. The difference this time is she knows it's true, that he loves her, that he always has, and she feels so thoroughly consumed by relief that she doesn't realise there are tears in her eyes until his hand tilts her chin up towards him and he frowns at her.

"I'm sorry," she says, smiling at him, embarrassed suddenly. "I'm fine, I really am, I'm just...relieved, I think. I know I was flippant about my charms reeling you in, but I really wasn't sure it would happen."

"You." He kisses her again, his hands running down her arms. "Underestimate your charms."

"Oh, I know my charms are solid." She wipes her eyes and smiles again. "Maybe I just overestimated your resistance."

"Did it seem like I was resisting?" He quirks an eyebrow, taking her hands in his and squeezing gently. "Does it seem like I'm resisting now?"

"No." She pulls her hands from his and smirks at him as she reaches for his belt.

His jeans hit the floor, her skirt, his t-shirt, her blouse, until they're facing each other in only their underwear, and his eyes roam across her body with such blatant adoration that it makes her blush. She sits on the bed and pulls him down next to her, running her hands across his chest, his shoulders, unable to get enough of the feel of his skin under her fingers. It seems he feels the same as his hands move to her face, her neck, her collarbone, stroking slowly across her flesh before he leans in to kiss her again. Moving backwards up the bed, she pulls him with her, her lips never leaving his, her arms dragging his body on top of hers as her need to have him covering her completely becomes impossible to contain.

He pulls his mouth from hers and she moans slightly as his lips move to her neck and start to kiss her skin, moving down her chest, leaving tiny featherlight kisses down her body, so light and so tender that she hears herself whimpering softly. Her hands move into his hair, encouraging him as his tongue darts out against her stomach and she feels her muscles twitching under him.

"Billy," she murmurs as he moves lower, his hands resting on her hips as his tongue dips into her belly button.

When he reaches her scar, she stiffens briefly, recalling the awkwardness of two nights ago, silently willing him to just skirt over it, to let it go for now but knowing him better than that so preparing herself for a reaction. She feels his lips kissing it softly, his thumbs stroking her hipbones so gently it almost tickles, and she nearly giggles before catching her bottom lip in her teeth to stop herself. He stops but not abruptly like before, this time it's more deliberate, and she knows he's thinking, wondering if he should raise it or carry on without comment.

"I realised something the other night." He looks up at her and she tilts her head, waiting as he scoots back up the bed until his face is level with hers. "I fucked up, freaking out when I saw your scar and I...well, the few times we've done this, I haven't once told you how beautiful you are. Nothing changes that, Mackenzie."

"I love you." She suddenly needs to tell him, even though he knows how she feels, she wants to just repeat it over and over, all day, every day because she never wants him to doubt it.

"I didn't freak out because of how it looks." He continues, his eyes fixed on hers. "I need you to know that, it just hit home that you only have it because I sat here drowning in my own fucking anger, my own self-pity while you went to a war zone."

"What part of 'can we table the talking?' did you miss?" She lightens her tone, trying to lift him from the place he's heading.

"I know, I know," he says, nodding. "I just...I'm sorry, I-"

"We both have things to be sorry for." She stops him, her voice soft but with a hint of warning. 

"And we do need to talk, but not tonight, ok? I promise you we can sit down with a list ten fucking miles long and work our way through it if we need to, but for tonight can we just...not? Please, Will?"

Nodding, he says nothing, simply leans in and kisses her, his lips soft against hers, his tongue gently nudging into her mouth as she pushes her hands into his hair and pulls him down closer to her. All she wants is his body pressed against hers, to feel his weight above her and his breath on her skin. This is what she missed, this closeness, being able to hold tightly onto him and for it to be okay that he knows how much she wants him, to tell him she loves him as he slides inside her, instead of swallowing the words, feeling them stick in her throat like razor blades.

Tonight it feels like it used to, like it did on Tuesday night but without the shadow of uncertainty hanging over them. Her nails rake down his back, his teeth scrape across her shoulder, she moans his name, he repeats hers against her skin, over and over. Mackenzie, always her full name when they're together like this, always... _Mackenzie_. When she comes under his tongue, shuddering hard, his hands steadying her hips as her thighs tremble beneath him, she tells him she loves him. When he comes, his lips pressed to the side of her neck, his fingers moving lightly across her stomach, she says it again, apparently unable to hold back now she knows she can say it without fear of silence in response. As he moves off her, pulling her towards him so she can curl up against his chest, he says it too, he loves her, he's always loved her, and they grin stupidly at each other.

Even before she opens her eyes, she knows he's awake. She can tell by his breathing, and by the way his hand is resting on her thigh, his fingers barely moving but not entirely still either. When she does open her eyes, she's not surprised to find him looking at her, his eyes on hers and a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Hey," he says softly, his smile widening. "You're here," she says with a sigh.

"I am." He nods. "So are you." "I live here." She smirks at him.

"Right." He grins and his fingers tickle across her leg. "Mmm," she says. "We really should get up, shouldn't we?"

"Five more minutes?" He moves his hand from her leg to her face, and she kisses his thumb as it brushes across her bottom lip.

"Yeah." She shifts forward and kisses him, again hit with the reminder that she can do this now, just like she used to, and the thought makes her smile softly against his lips. "Tell me what you missed about me?"

"What did I miss about you?" He repeats her question, his eyes on hers. "God, Mac, how long do you have?"

"How long do you need?" She smiles again. "I can tell you right now what I missed about you."

"I missed _this_ , waking up with you. I missed your smile, the proper one that makes your eyes crinkle." He pauses for a second, thinking. "And I missed the freckle on your left shoulder that looks like a tiny chocolate smudge."

"I missed the way your hair sticks up in the morning." She glances up at his hair and back to his face. "And I missed the way you're just a tiny bit grumpy until you've had your first coffee-"

"I'm not grumpy _now_." He protests with a pout.

"Only because the novelty of waking up next to me hasn't worn off yet," she says, pausing to kiss him again. "You know what else? I missed teasing you about your dodgy knees."

"You never _stopped_ teasing me about my knees," he says, raising an eyebrow.

"Fair point." She nods, biting her lip as she thinks about all of the things she missed and won't have to miss any more.

"I missed watching you do that." He gestures to her bottom lip, still caught between her teeth. "And knowing I would be kissing it later."

"I missed watching you at work and thinking about where your tongue was the night before." She lowers her voice, shifting closer to him. "And where it was going to be later."

"I missed your legs," he says, again running his hand up her thigh for emphasis.

"My legs haven't been anywhere." She moves her hand to rest on his chest. "Although admittedly they haven't been wrapped around you enough."

"We can absolutely remedy that," he says. 

"Good plan," she murmurs softly.

"And I really, _really_..." Pausing, he lifts her hand and kisses her fingers. "Missed the sounds you make when you come."

"Billy." His thumb moves to stroke across her cheek and she lets out a soft giggle. "I missed holding your hand, I've always loved holding your hand, I missed the way you rub my back when I don't think you even know you're doing it. I missed just... _knowing_ you love me."

"I do," he says, closing the gap between them to kiss her, his lips soft against hers, tugging gently on her bottom lip before pulling back and smiling at her.

"We really do need to get out of bed now." She sighs and he nods. "And you're going to have to go home to change, aren't you?"

"I guess so," he says. "Can't really go to work in yesterday's underwear."

"No." She giggles before pausing for a second. "Why don't you grab some extra things and then you can stay here this weekend? I mean, only if you want to, if you don't have anything else-"

"I want to." He kisses her and she sighs happily against him.

"Let's have coffee before you need to leave." She runs a hand down his arm before climbing out of bed, grabbing a robe from the back of the door and grinning at him. "It's a good thing you're resigned to starting your day in yesterday's clothes because I don't have anything that will fit you."

She heads for the kitchen and she's waiting for the coffee pot when she hears him walk in and feels him slide his arms around her from behind, kissing the side of her neck. Leaning back against him, she closes her eyes and smiles, thinking about how this is what she wanted when she instead found herself dressing in his living room and sneaking out while he still slept. She wanted to wake up next to him, to drink coffee with him before work, and when they sit down at the table she tells him exactly that.

"Me too," he says, reaching across and stroking the back of her hand as he smiles. "And now we can."

"Yeah." She can't contain the smile she feels spreading across her face. "Now we can."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The rundown meeting finds her biting her lip and trying not to stare in Will's direction, reminding herself that she doesn't need to stare at him at work now that she can do it after hours whenever she wants to._

The last time she woke up next to him on a Friday morning, she had found herself rifling through his drawers for a sweatshirt and pushing down the nausea of despair as she climbed into a taxi with it hastily thrown over her dress from the night before. She remembers arriving home and standing in the shower, vowing silently to stop letting this happen, to step away when she feels his irresistible pull, only to all but launch herself at him five days later after a shitshow of a broadcast. A brief moment of hope had attempted to break through the horrible awkwardness in her kitchen the next morning, but was thoroughly shattered when she got out of the shower to find him gone, a note on the counter the only indication he was ever there at all.

How different this Friday morning was. When she woke up a few hours ago he was right there beside her, his face inches from hers, and she sighs as she thinks about how his eyes were fixed firmly on her, his hand resting gently on her leg.

"Hey." Jim walks in through her open door, hovering in front of her desk. "You wanted to see me?"

"I did. Close the door, would you?" She smiles and waits for him to turn back to her before she continues. "So, I wanted to ask you something completely non-work related, for which I apologise, but-"

"You want to know who out there knows," he says, pausing, an awkward look crossing his face. "About last night. Right?"

"Yeah," she says, smiling slightly at him. "I'm sorry, I don't want to make you feel...you know, I don't want...fuck, what I'm trying to say is that with everything that happened last night, other than you and Neal, I’m not sure I really know _who_ was there."

"Okay, right." He runs a hand through his hair, glancing down at her desk before looking back at her and taking a breath. "Tess, Tamara, Martin, Maggie, Neal, me-"

"So, basically everyone?" She stops him, sighing.

"Well, Kendra wasn't there," he says, an embarrassed look on his face. "And obviously you guys staged your big scene while ten o'clock was airing, so no Don, Elliot or Sloan, but yeah, pretty much everyone else."

"Alright, well, that's good, I suppose." She smiles faintly in his direction. "At least we’re not going to have to sit down and break it to everyone."

"Also..." He stops and she raises her eyebrows and nods at him to carry on. "Will walked in five minutes ago and he was, um, smiling. Like, actually smiling, not smirking sarcastically, and if that isn't a giveaway then I don't know what is."

"Dammit," she says, a smile sneaking onto her lips. "I told him earlier to get his best grouch on before he got here. I'm going to have to stop making him so damn happy in the mornings."

"Oh God," he mutters, standing up so quickly he almost takes the chair with him. "I really don't need to...is there anything else? Work stuff, I mean, not, you know-"

"No." She laughs as he turns for the door, but stops him again. "Jim?" "Yeah." He looks back at her, his face again on the verge of panic.

"Thank you," she says, her face serious again. "For last night. I know things got heated, and I know you were ready to step in, even though it's not necessary because you _know_ I can stand up for myself, not to mention that Will is essentially a great big teddy bear...anyway, I'm grateful nevertheless."

"That felt more like a scolding than a thank you." He smiles slightly and starts to move again towards the door. "But yeah, you're welcome."

"See you at the rundown," she says, giving him a smile as she turns back to the papers on her desk.

"Mac..." He pauses, seems to reconsider, but then goes on. "This thing...you and Will, you're happy, right?"

"Yes." She feels a grin spreading across her face, almost of its own will. "I am, I promise." "Okay...good." He smiles back at her. "Good."

The rundown meeting finds her biting her lip and trying not to stare in Will's direction, reminding herself that she doesn't need to stare at him at work now that she can do it after hours whenever she wants to. Jim doesn't say much but she does catch him frowning at Will more than once and she wonders if she needs to do something more to convince him that she's happy, that this is a good thing, a really good thing. Neal spends the meeting with a faint smirk on his face, his gaze darting between her and Will as if he's watching a tennis match, while Tess and Tamara refuse to even try and hide how much they're enjoying this development.

It's mid-afternoon before she sees Will again, and she feels his hand on her back before she actually sees him. Following her into her office, he drops down into the chair opposite hers, his eyes fixed on her as she starts to scroll through her emails.

"Did you need something?" she asks, looking at him, her eyebrows raised. "Not really." He smiles at her, shrugging slightly.

"So, are you planning to just sit there and watch me work?" she asks, smiling back across the desk at him.

"Maybe," he says.

"Oh, I remembered this morning that I made plans with my sister for tomorrow." She pauses. "Shopping, she was insistent, you know Harry."

"I do." He nods. "I brought a bag, but if-"

"Oh, no, I didn't mean..." She stops him, not wanting him to think she's trying to put him off when it's the last thing she's doing. "She won't be at my place until about eleven tomorrow, so tonight's still fine."

“Alright." He stands up and smiles again.

"We could spend Sunday together? If you don't have plans." She hears the hesitancy in her own voice and cringes inwardly.

"I do now," he says, grinning as he turns for the door.

*

They turn down some enthusiastic attempts to persuade them out for drinks after the show, Mackenzie insisting she really just needs an early night, an insistence nobody is buying. By the time they're back at her apartment, take-out and beer on the coffee table in front of them, she feels more relaxed than she has in months, maybe even years. When they finish eating, she sighs happily and leans back against the couch, a beer in her hand as she smiles at him.

“So, shopping tomorrow, huh?” he asks, smiling back at her.

“I don’t know that she particularly wants to go shopping, really.” She pauses to take a drink. “I think she just wanted to do something to make sure I wasn’t sitting around moping…moping over you, if that’s not clear.”

“Ah,” he says, nodding. “She knows about us?”

“She doesn’t know about this yet, that we’re back together,” she says. “But she knew what kept happening and that it wasn't what I wanted…I mean, it was what I wanted, obviously, but it wasn't _all_ I wanted. Hell, you know what I'm trying to say. Anyway, she's my sister, Will, we talk.”

“I know.” He nudges her shoulder gently. “I’m glad. I really was just asking about your plans for tomorrow.”

“Right,” she smiles sheepishly. “My only plans for Sunday though are to spend it with you, if that helps?”

“Sure as hell doesn’t hurt.” He turns and smiles at her before they fall into a comfortable silence, her head resting against his shoulder.

It's only when she feels him take the beer bottle gently out of her hand that she realises she must have been on the verge of dozing off, full of food, comfortable against him, and suddenly exhausted by the events of the week. She sighs and lifts her head from his shoulder, blinking up at him and smiling.

"Sorry," she says, stifling a yawn.

"Did someone keep you up late last night?" He smiles back at her, his hand reaching to take hers.

"Mmm." She nods and squeezes his fingers. "There _is_ this guy..."

"Thought so," he says. "Same guy who's about to suggest we get some sleep since you can barely keep your eyes open?"

"Same guy." She lets him pull her slowly to her feet and she bites her lip as she realises again that this is it, they're together again, properly, tonight she can curl up with him, snuggle as tightly against his chest as she wants to, knowing he wants it too.

When she wakes up and the clock beside her bed tells her it's not long after six, she realises she doesn't remember sleeping for almost seven hours straight in years, barely recalls a night when she managed more than five. Will is still sleeping, on his side facing away from her and she resists for only a second before reaching out to touch him, resting her hand gently on his shoulder and shifting closer to him. The next time she wakes it's almost eight and he's awake too, facing her, his hand loosely at her waist, his hair standing up and making her smile.

"Are you laughing at my morning hair?" His voice is rough as he smiles at her. "Because I'm pretty sure it was on the list of things you missed about me. I woke up at five to mess it up just for you."

"Funny," she says, reaching up to run her hand through it. "When I woke up at six it still looked pretty tidy."

"Maybe you should've messed it up." He lowers his voice and her stomach flips over in anticipation.

"Still could." She leans forward and kisses him, sliding her hand under his t-shirt and sighing as he does the same, his fingers stroking slowly across her lower back.

"I wanted this every time, you know," he says, pausing to kiss her again, softly, tenderly, his tongue running slowly across her bottom lip. "To be here when you woke up, to do this. I just didn't think it was what you wanted, I-"

"Because I said I'd moved on, _months_ ago, may I remind you...you thought all I wanted from you was sex? Even though I thought I was making it quite clear that I hadn't moved on at all." She sighs, pausing for a second. "How could you think even for a minute I didn't want in completely? You know me, Billy, have I ever done _anything_ half-heartedly?"

"Never." He answers her quickly, his fingers moving higher up her back. "I thought I'd blown it, missed my chance, and I didn't want to fuck everything up. I thought if all you wanted was sex then it was something, at least I was getting to touch you again."

"And I thought it was the best I was going to get and that it would have to be good enough," she says quietly. "I just resigned myself to the fact I didn't deserve any more than that, and that you'd never forgive me, and-"

"Hey." He stops her and pulls his hand out from under her pyjama top so he can rest it against her cheek, rubbing his thumb gently against her skin. "It hasn't been about forgiveness for a long time, honey, I know that now, I was just stubborn and really fucking uncommunicative. I love you, I've loved you since April twentieth, 2005, and I've never stopped."

"Did you just pull that date out of your arse?" She giggles and he raises his eyebrows.

"Nope," he says, smiling at her. "Our third date. I came to your place and you cooked dinner. It was amazing and when we sat down on your couch I just knew right at that moment that I was in love with you."

"I remember that," she says, moving her fingers across the warm skin of his back and smiling back at him. "You told me later you hadn't expected me to be able to cook for shit."

"I enjoyed you proving me wrong." He rolls onto his back, pulling her with him and she grins, looking up at him from where she's resting on his chest.

"Do you know when I realised I was in love with you?" she asks, sliding up higher so their faces are level and she can look into his eyes. "When you put a pair of socks on my feet one night. I hadn't asked for them, I don't think I'd even said my feet were cold, but you just knew, and that's when it hit me that I loved you."

"And here we are," he says as he slides his arms around her, pulling her closer to him. "Six years later."

"Yeah, we may have taken the scenic route, but here we are." She kisses him again before pulling back and rolling off him, laughing at his pout when she does.

"Mackenzie..." He stops when he realises what she's doing and watches as she pulls her pyjamas off and then waits for him to do the same.

"That's better." She sighs and climbs into his lap, her thighs straddling his, her hands on his shoulders as he sits back against the headboard. "Can't have lazy Saturday morning sex with our PJs still on, can we?"

"The only thing I just heard was lazy Saturday morning sex," he says, pulling her to him and kissing her, harder than before, his tongue moving against hers and his hands in her hair.

"It was the part that mattered." She moves her lips from his, trailing them slowly down the side of his neck, her teeth nipping gently at his skin. "I missed this too...I like the taste of you in the morning."

Bringing her face back to his, he kisses her again, sucking softly on her bottom lip and running his fingers down the back of her neck. Her hand grips harder onto his shoulder and she moans as he kisses his way across her jawbone, tiny, gentle kisses, barely touching her at all, just his breath against her skin. She pushes herself further into his lap, feeling him harden beneath her and shifting slightly to slide over the length of him, smiling as he plants his hands on her hips and groans at the contact. Her hand moves to her breast, and she runs her fingers around her nipple, biting her lip as his eyes turn darker and his gaze shifts to watch what she's doing. She hasn't forgotten this, how he likes to watch her, almost as though he's challenging himself to see how long he can let her touch herself before he steps in. On this occasion, not long...his mouth moves to her other breast and he takes her nipple into his mouth, quick strokes of his tongue at first, flicking against her skin, until she moans and he starts to suck harder.

God, he's the only person who has ever done this to her, brought her close to the edge just from this, his mouth, his _tongue_ , always knowing exactly what to do to drive her crazy. When he pulls back, the air hits her already hard nipple and she sighs at the sensation, and as his finger strokes slowly across her she feels a rush of wetness between her legs that makes her sigh.

She feels him twitch against her and she looks down, tilting her hips against him almost instinctively as she sees how hard he is. His hand moves down between them and when he starts to move his fingers against her, she bites her lip and fixes her eyes firmly on his, watching the shade change as his pupils dilate and the usually pale blue turns much darker. She reaches down to take him in her hand, stroking slowly up and down, his breathing turning heavier as he groans her name. Leaning forward, she kisses him, a slow, wet, deep kiss, her breath mingling with his, their tongues engaging in a determined dance and when she lifts up just enough to guide him slowly inside her, she murmurs his name into his mouth.

She slides down fully onto him, still kissing him, her tongue moving against his, but when she stops, feeling him completely inside her, she can't help pulling out of the kiss slightly to smile against his lips.

"I love you," he says, running his fingers up her sides as she leans back, before moving his hands around to her shoulder blades as she starts to move, tilting her hips slowly towards his and letting out a long, breathy sigh.

His fingers tickle across her back and she smiles at him, watching his eyes drift from her face to her breasts and she knows before his head dips exactly where his lips are heading. When his mouth once again latches onto her nipple she moans and picks up her pace, gripping his shoulders tightly as she feels his teeth scrape against her.

"Do that again," she murmurs, her eyes falling shut as he bites a little harder and another moan escapes her lips.

Moving a hand from his shoulder, she slips it down between her legs, her eyes opening suddenly when she feels him push her hand aside, replacing it with his as he says nothing, simply shaking his head and looking into her eyes. His thumb settles against her, rubbing small, rhythmic circles that make her moan over and over as she starts to move faster. With every downward stroke, his thumb brushes harder and when she knows she's about to come she reaches for him, almost blindly, his name falling from her lips in a cry. Her hand settles on his face and when she does come, her focus narrows to only him, her eyes on his as her thighs squeeze tighter against his.

"Mackenzie..." His voice is hoarse and he blinks hard, the way she knows he does when he's about to come.

"So _good_ , Billy." Her hand moves down the side of his face until her fingers are on his neck.

When she scratches her nails lightly across his skin, he grabs her other hand and squeezes her fingers as he comes into her with a low groan, dropping an octave as she tightens her muscles around him. Shoving her hands roughly into his hair, she kisses him, a long slow kiss which seems mostly to consist of the two of them breathing heavily against each other. Her tongue slips into his mouth and she realises he's still inside her, and still harder than a man of his age has any right to be. When he breaks the kiss and moves his lips to the side of her neck, she sighs and tugs on his hair until he eventually lifts his head to look at her.

"That was really..." She pauses as he moves in for one more kiss. " _Really_ nice." "In this case, nice is a compliment, right?" he asks, a smirk appearing on his face.

"Mmm." She nods and shifts slightly so he can slide out of her before she settles back down onto his thighs. "It is. I feel like lazy Saturday morning sex should always be nice, and I think we should do it every Saturday, without fail."

"Every Saturday?" He quirks an eyebrow and she nods again.

"Every Saturday until we're too old to do it anymore," she says, smiling at him.

"I have news for you, honey." He stops and runs a finger playfully down her nose until she giggles. "The day I'm too old to do this with you is the day I get carried out of here feet first."

"Sometimes your stubborn streak drives me insane." Her smile grows wider. "But occasionally, it can be _very_ sexy."

They eventually make it out of bed and into the shower, and she leans against him as he washes her hair, his hands softly massaging her scalp as she closes her eyes and remembers how she always used to love him doing this. He's a big guy in every way, his hands no exception, but he's so gentle, so tender that she loves nothing more than to just stand and feel his fingers running reverently through her hair. She washes his chest, taking the opportunity to touch him again, his skin slick under her hands, her mouth moving to taste him when the last traces of soap drain away.

She dresses and quickly dries her hair, glancing at the time as she finishes, realising Harriet will be here any minute. Will follows her into the bedroom, a towel around his waist as he looks for the bag he brought with him.

"Under the dresser," she says, smiling. "I'll go and make some coffee."

The coffee is on and she is about to head back to the bedroom to finish getting ready when her buzzer rings.

"Come on up," she says, heading to the door and opening it before turning back to the kitchen. 

"Hello?" Harriet's voice rings out a minute later and she smiles, calling out to tell her where she is. 

"Hi." She reaches for her sister and hugs her. "Traffic okay?"

"Pretty good, actually, yeah." Harriet nods and drops her handbag on the kitchen counter, reaching over to tug on the shirt Mackenzie is wearing. "This is cute, Trip."

"Thanks," she says, reaching up to take out some mugs. "Coffee?" "God yeah, I'd love one, thanks." Harriet grins at her. "You okay?"

"Yeah." She nods, smiling back at her sister. "Listen, there's something I should tell you. After we talked on Thursday night, I-"

She stops because Harriet's attention has shifted from her and her eyes are wide and fixed on what she can only assume is Will behind her.

"Hey, Harry." He moves to stand behind Mackenzie, his hand on her back for just a second before he steps to the fridge and takes out the milk. "It's been...a while. How are you?"

"Will." Harriet answers but seems thrown and Mackenzie has to bite her lip, amused by her sister's reaction. "I'm good, yeah, thanks."

Pouring coffee for all of them, Mackenzie nods her thanks as Will hands her the milk, adding a splash to Harriet's before putting it down on the counter in front of her.

"I just need to go and put some make up on," Mackenzie says, picking up her mug and looking over at Harriet. "Sorry, I'll just be a few minutes."

"Cool," Harriet says, no longer speechless. "I'll stay here and squeeze whatever details I can out of Will."

"Fine." Mackenzie sighs. "Just don't be too much of a shit. I'm really quite fond of him." "I make no such promises." Harriet says, smirking in Will's direction.

"I'm sorry, hon," Mackenzie murmurs into his ear. "I won't be long."

"Okay..." Harriet waits until Mackenzie has gone before turning to face him. "So, clearly this has moved on from just an occasional fuck, or whatever the hell it was the two of you were doing?"

"That's not what...yeah, it has. It's definitely moved on." He nods, pausing for a second. "You talked to her on Thursday, right?"

"Mmm-hmm," Harriet says, narrowing her eyes slightly. "I told her she needed to talk to you, and I'm guessing she finally did?"

"Yeah, things sort of came to a head, and we both realised we wanted..." He runs a hand through his hair. "More. We both wanted _more_."

"Look, I don't want to speak for my sister, but we do talk and I know she was tearing herself up over it, she thought all you wanted was sex and she didn't know how to bring it up..." She stops and looks at him. "Will, I really hope you're not messing with her...I hope you know what you want, because if-"

"I want to marry her," he says, stopping her.

"Do you mean that, or is this just you saying whatever you can to shut me the fuck up?" Putting down her mug, she glares at him.

"Good to see you haven't changed at all, Harry." He smirks slightly and she sighs. 

"I'm not fucking around, Will," she says. "If you're not serious then you-"

"I'm totally serious," he says, quickly, stopping her. "I have a ring."

"You have..." She pauses for a second. "A ring? You got back together, like, not even two days ago and you're telling me you bought a ring?"

"I've had the ring for longer than two days." He reaches for his mug, avoiding her gaze.

"Oh my God!" She yells at him and he flinches slightly. "You bought a _ring_ five fucking years ago, but you wouldn't forgive her, you wouldn't...you bought her a ring and it's been what, sitting in your bathroom cabinet this whole time?"

"Not exactly, no." He sighs. "Look, I want to marry her, I...do you think she wants to marry me?" 

"What?" Harriet looks incredulous. "Are you seriously asking that question?"

"Yeah." He shrugs. "I mean, she talks to you so I thought maybe she might have said-"

"She wanted to marry you five years ago, you idiot." Harriet sighs loudly. "It's why she told you what she did, because she thought that's what you wanted too and she felt like she should be honest with you before you guys made things permanent. But it didn't exactly work out that way, did it? So yeah, she wants to marry you, you big dumb fucking fool."

"Okay then," he says. "I guess that cleared things up."

"Sorry, that was a little harsh." Harriet smiles slightly at him. "I just…I can’t stand to see her get hurt again, and you're really the only one who can do that, the only one who's been doing it. My sister is tough, Will, you know that, but she's also ridiculously fucking sweet and optimistic, and she just wants to be happy-"

"I'm going to make her happy." He cuts in, insistent. "I'm never going to hurt her again, _never_ , and I know you have no real reason to believe me but I absolutely promise you that."

"Good to go, if you are?" Mackenzie walks back in and smiles.

Harriet stands up and Will does the same, picking up his mug but stopping when Mackenzie moves to stand in front of him and takes the coffee out of his hand, setting it back on the counter.

"Stay, finish your coffee," she says, smiling up at him, feeling shorter than usual, more accustomed to heels than the flats she's wearing this morning. "Just take my keys. I'll call when we're done and you can head back and meet me here?"

"Alright," he says, smiling back at her.

Even though she feels suddenly and quite ridiculously shy with Harriet in the room, she leans up and kisses him anyway, her hand squeezing his shoulder gently as she pulls back, studiously ignoring the smirk on her sister's face.

"I'll see you later." She turns and picks up her bag, gesturing to Harriet. "Come on, let's go. I can feel you itching to shop."

*  
"Right," Harriet says. "I need jeans, and maybe shoes. How about you?"

"I don't really need anything." Shrugging, she runs her hand half-heartedly over a dress as they walk through towards the shoe department. "It was you who wanted to go shopping, remember."

"Fine." They reach the shoes and Harriet picks up a high black patent, Mackenzie behind her, looking at a suede peep toe.

"Maybe we should hit up the lingerie department and get you something sexy for that new man of yours."

"New?" Mackenzie quirks an eyebrow and slips her shoe off to try the peep toe, frowning and removing it again.

"Alright." Harriet smirks. "Old, I guess."

"Hey!" Swatting her sister on the arm, Mackenzie grins. "He's not that old." 

"Well." Harriet pauses. "He is _quite_ old."

"Let me tell you..." Leaning closer to Harriet, she lowers her voice. "He was in no way an old man at eight o'clock this morning."

"God." Harriet gives an exaggerated shudder. "I'm going to take it you're talking about him making you breakfast and flipping pancakes like a twenty year old chef."

"If that's what you need to tell yourself, then sure." She pauses. "Are we done here?"

"Yeah, let's go check out the jeans." Harriet starts walking, smirking as she turns back. "So...is it true what they say about guys with big hands, Trip?"

"Absolutely," she says, without hesitation. "Huge... _gloves_."

Two pairs of jeans, one shirt, and a pair of shoes later, Harriet is satisfied with her haul and they sit down for a late afternoon coffee. Taking out her phone, Mackenzie quickly checks her emails, making sure there's no breaking news she needs to be aware of before putting it back in her bag and looking at Harriet, eyeballing her across the table.

"Texting lover boy?" Harriet smirks.

"No, actually." She sighs pointedly at her. "Just making sure there's no news I should know about."

"Unlike the news _I_ should have known about." Harriet pauses to take a sip of her coffee. "Had you bothered to tell me."

"I was about to tell you this morning," she says. "And then-"

"And then the man himself walked in, which is one way to fucking break it to me, I guess." Harriet narrows her eyes and continues. "You couldn't have found two minutes between Thursday night and this morning to tell me?"

"Well..." She pauses and grins slightly. "I probably _could_ have." 

"You little shit." Harriet laughs, shaking her head.

"It's not often I get to render you speechless," she says, grinning even wider. "Come on, give me that one, at least."

"Alright, you get one." Harriet says, grinning back. "So...I'm not going to ask if you're happy about all of this because it's really obvious. I mean, you literally tried on one shoe today, _one_ , like not even a pair! If that doesn't mean your mind is on other things I don't know what fucking does."

"Maybe I just don't need new shoes," she says, watching Harriet's eyebrows raise. "Yeah, I heard myself say that, and yes, I'm happy. I've wanted this for so long, Harry, you know that."

" _This_?" Harriet asks. "What are we talking about here? Marriage, house in the country, babies, dogs?"

"I don't really see us in the country." She smiles. "And we haven't talked about any of this stuff yet, but yeah, I want to marry him, of course I do. I don't know if he's going to want to leap straight to that but I guess we'll see."

"Yeah, you will." Harriet grins. "Right now, I want cheesecake, so you're going to need to split a piece with me."

*  
"Did you do anything today?" she asks, smiling at him as he walks into the kitchen.

"Not much." He takes a bottle of wine out of the fridge and smiles back at her. "Watched some tv, went into the office for a while."

"Why?" She frowns slightly. "Did I miss something?"

"No." He shakes his head and hands her the wine he's just poured. "There was something I needed to do, I had to pick something up."

"What do you want to do for dinner?" She turns to the fridge and opens the door, sighing when she sees the limited choices on offer. "We could order something, or I can see what I can cobble together from-"

"Take out's fine with me, you can choose." He stops her, closing the fridge door and taking her hand to pull her to him.

"Pizza then. I'd like pizza." She smiles at him, bemused but getting the feeling he wants to talk. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah." He nods. "Kind of...I know we really haven't talked at all yet, and we need to, but before we do, I want to be clear on something, something that isn't going to change, whatever comes up. Okay?"

"Okay..." She feels her smile falter slightly and she bites her lip, suddenly nervous. "Should I be-"

"I'm in, completely in." He stops her, his hand squeezing hers. "I want to be with you, Mackenzie, forever, totally with you, one hundred percent. I love you."

"God, Will." She laughs nervously. "You had me worried there for a second. I love you too, you do know that, don't you?"

"I do, and the thing is..." He stops and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small box and taking out the ring she had tried so hard to forget about after he showed it to her. "I want to marry you, I've always wanted to marry you, and even if that's not what you want, or if you're not ready for that right now, you need to know that I am _never_ going to hurt you again, and I'm going to be in love with you for the rest of my life, I-"

"Not ready?" She smiles at him, taking in the sweet, earnest look on his face. "You need to know something too, I would marry you tomorrow if there weren't a million bureaucratic hoops to jump through and a billion forms to fill in first."

"You would?" He smiles back and she's aware that they're now just standing in her kitchen grinning at each other.

"Yes!" She giggles and looks down at the ring in his hands. "Wait, that's the ring you-"

"I need to tell you something else...about the ring." He takes a deep breath and she bites her lip because she knows what is coming next. "I didn't buy it when we were together, I bought it when- "

"When I had the team do opposition research on you," she says, quietly. "I know." 

"How did...wait, you _knew_?" His eyes go wide and he looks completely surprised.

"Not at first, no." She shakes her head. "At first I thought you really had bought it for me when we were together and I was...well, hurt would be an understatement, but-"

"I'm sorry," he says quickly, stopping her. "I know I've pulled some stunts but I feel like this one probably topped them all. It was really shitty, and I'm sorry."

"Yes, it was." She can't argue with him, it was shitty and she remembers going back to her office, her hands shaking as she realised yet again what she had thrown away for good, the proof of his intentions sitting in his desk drawer.

"When did you realise?" His voice breaks into her thoughts and she looks back at him.

"Oh, come on, I'm not an idiot." She manages a smile in his direction, because even though she remembers being blindsided by it, none of it matters now, not really. "I know you can hold a grudge, Will, but I’m pretty sure even _you_ wouldn't have bought a ring five years ago, moved it from DC to New York, and kept it hidden in your office drawer on the off chance that the option to wave it triumphantly in my face might come up."

"Yeah...fuck, I'm sorry." He pauses and holds the ring up, both of them watching as it catches the light. "Does this mean you'd rather wear anything on your finger than this? Because we can go together and choose a new one, I don't-"

"No, it's beautiful. God, it really is gorgeous." She looks more closely at it, and it is beautiful. Unreasonably huge, but definitely beautiful. "It really does look just like the one I described to you years ago too, I don't understand, I-"

"Just because I bought it for the wrong reasons, it doesn't mean I didn't buy it for you," he says. "Subconsciously at the time, I'll admit, but it was always going to be yours, Mackenzie."

"Then you really should see how it looks on my finger, don't you think?" Beaming at him, she glances down at their hands and notices the slight shake in his as he moves the ring towards her left hand.

"Marry me?" he asks, his tone hopeful, his eyes on hers.

"You know...I think I will." She watches as he slides the ring onto her finger, the perfect fit confirming to her that it really was hers all along. "Kiss your bride, Billy."

"I think you're getting a few steps ahead of yourself." He grins and moves his hand to her face, cupping her cheek gently, his thumb running across her cheekbone.

"Whatever...kiss me anyway," she murmurs, smiling as he leans in and his lips meet hers.

She grins at him when they break apart, her grin turning into a surprised laugh when her stomach gurgles loudly.

"Would my fiancée like pizza?" he asks, grinning back at her.

"Your fiancée would _love_ pizza," she says, grabbing his hand and pulling him with her as she pulls the menu down from the fridge. "You know, pizza is really not very healthy, we're probably going to need to do something to work it off afterwards. I suppose we could go for a walk or something..."

"I vote we think of other ways to burn off dinner while we wait for it to arrive." He takes the menu out of her hand and she is startled briefly by the sight of the ring on her finger, the weight of it on her hand.

"I could just bench press this rock of mine." She says, looking down at it again. "If you bought me another, I'd have the fanciest set of dumbbells in New York."

"You haven't seen what I have planned for your wedding band." He waggles his eyebrows and she laughs.

"Come on, let's do what all newly engaged couples do." She bites her lip and moves in closer, her lips almost touching his ear as she whispers. "Let's order pizza."


End file.
